3546- A Dark Waltz Prequel
by Moonchild707
Summary: A story to recount the lives of the Swan children prior to the events of Dark Waltz. After the death of her parents, little Bella is shipped off to Arizona, while her big brother and sister are sent to Forks to live with the Cullens. An account of Bella's time with Doctor Dupont in the Institute, and Alice and Emmett's slow rebuilding with the Cullens. WARNING: dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

**I have decided to give you all a little prequel teaser. I will post this chapter (and maybe chapter two later on) to give everyone a taste of what this much-anticipated story is all about. This story will contain dark themes and disturbing content to sensitive viewers (though you should all be aware of the kinds of things in this story, seeing as you should have read _Dark Waltz_ before you read)**.

**Enjoy! (and please let me know what you think)**

Chapter 1- _June 30, 2000_

Bella stared at the commotion around her. Heart filled with discontent and jealousy, she stood, arms crossed as she watched her father climb up and down the stairs, each time returning with a new bag or belonging. _None of them are mine,_ she thought bitterly. She was too young to accompany her siblings to summer camp. No matter how much she had begged and pleaded, she had not been able to convince her father that she _was _big enough, that she_ could_ spend lots of sleeps away from her bed and books and stuffies. She was _not_ a baby.

Alice and Emmett had been preparing for weeks, packing, unpacking and repacking their bags so many times that Bella had lost count and their mother had lost her temper. Bella had listened to their excitement in surly silence. Emmett had been going to camp for years- since before Bella could remember- but Alice had only gone once before. Last year, she'd been deemed "old enough", and she had kissed Bella goodbye before loading her bags onto the big yellow school bus. Bella had been jealous then, too, as she was forced to wave goodbye.

"Baby, what are you doing?" asked her father, Charlie, as Bella stood in the doorway. "You're blocking the door."

"Can't I go too?" pleaded Bella once more, hoping her sad face would sway her daddy.

"I don't make the camp rules, kiddo," laughed Charlie. "They say you've got to be seven to go."

"I'm _almost_ seven!" said Bella eagerly. "My birthday means I'll be seven."

"But you're still six," smiled Charlie. "You can go next year. I promise. Don't be sad, 'kay?"

Bella returned to her stony silence and inched out of the doorway, letting Charlie through. She tossed herself down on the dining table, frowning.

"Don't be so glum, Bella," came the voice of her mother, Renee. "We'll have plenty of fun right here."

"But Alice says that they'll make dream catchers and play ball!" Bella complained. "There'll be no more kids left here."

"We'll make our own crafts," bargained Renee. "I'll take you down to the craft store and you can decide all on your own what you'd like to make. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Camp sounds funner," muttered Bella. Her mother let out a frustrated sigh and turned away, opening the two backpacks carefully and depositing a small sum of money into each. Emmett had told her that there was a store at camp where they could buy treats, as long as their cabin was clean and they were good listeners. Bella knew he wasn't lying because last year, he'd returned with a bag of lollipops, and because Bella was sad because she had wanted to go, he let her have one.

Mom would never have let him get a whole bag of suckers.

"Why don't you go see if Alice needs any help?" suggested Charlie, coming back inside. "You could tell her how you want your shirt painted." Alice had promised to paint an extra shirt for her as a present.

"Fine," said Bella, resigned. Her father watched, torn between amusement and pity as his youngest child slumped to the staircase and thumped her way up, pouting all the while. When Bella made it upstairs, she turned towards Alice's room, hesitating when she saw the door closed. A frustrated groan came from inside as Bella knocked on the door.

"Mom, I can't find it!" wailed Alice's voice. "It's not here!"

"Alice?"

"Oh! Bella!" cried Alice, her voice turning much happier. The door flew open. "I'm just looking for my pink shirt."

"Oh," said Bella softly. Alice had many pink shirts, none of which Bella particularly enjoyed, and the identity of this absent shirt and its importance was not known to her.

"That's a pink shirt," said Bella unhelpfully, pointing at the growing pile on the bed.

"No, no," said Alice irritably. "The one with the _beads."_

Oh. The beads.

"I can't go without it," said Alice, fretting. "I've already packed the shorts…"

Bella said nothing.

"Are you still sad?" asked Alice easily.

"I want to go," said Bella vehemently. "It's no fair."

"You can go next year, said Alice, breezing past her, "and I'll still make you an awesome t-shirt."

"Can it be blue?" asked Bella eagerly. "Oh please, Ali! Blue?"

"Sure," laughed Alice, "and I promise I won't let Emmett decorate it." Bella giggled. Just as they finished speaking, both girls heard their brother's door fly open with a loud _bang_, and his noisy footsteps descending the stairs two at a time. Alice erupted into giggles too as Emmett's noise died away.

"When camp's done, are you going to let your hair grow long again?" asked Bella curiously. Alice had cut her hair last year too, as she didn't want to be bothered brushing it. Dad called it convenient. Mom called it lazy.

"Maybe," said Alice dismissively. "I kind of like it like this."

"Oh."

"I wish you wouldn't be sad, Bell," said Alice. "I mean, we'll be back soon."

"I don't want you to go," said Bella. She gazed up at the back of her sister's head, frowning.

"We'll be back in two weeks," said Alice easily. "You and mom and dad'll have so much fun here. I think dad wants to take you fishing with Uncle Billy again."

"Really? You think so?" asked Bella eagerly. Last time, they'd caught a fish, but Bella hadn't let her daddy keep it. She had cried and made him throw it back, and although dad and Uncle Billy had laughed, Bella thought they'd have been happier if she'd let them keep that fish.

"I know so," said Alice, secretive. A wide grin split her face. "Emmett and I will go to camp and you'll stay here and have fun with mom and dad."

"I'll miss you though," said Bella sadly. She loved Alice and she didn't want to see her leave. "You promised to read me that new story."

Alice had brought _Where the Wild Things Are_ home from the final book sale of the school year, and Bella wasn't a good reader like her sister.

Bella was jealous of that, too.

"You can do a little reading," reasoned Alice. "You try while I'm gone and I'll read it all to you when I get back." Alice leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bella's cheek, taking her hand in her own. Alice abandoned her search for the pink shirt and led the way to the lower floor, from which Emmett's voice was echoing.

"Do you think there'll be any hot chicks at camp, dad?" he asked eagerly. Alice rolled her eyes and stared his way when she walked in, looking haughty.

"You're gross," she complained. "Everyone at school knows it."

Bella stood back, observing the all-too-common sight of her big brother and sister fighting.

"Shut it, Pixie," groused Emmett. "A guy like me needs some hot women around." Bella didn't quite understand, but when her father's neck reddened, she knew it was probably bad. Mom would call it _inappropriate._

"Emmett," scolded Charlie. "Don't be rude."

"I'm not rude!" protested Emmett. "It's true!"

"You'll live without some 'hot chicks'."

"Charles Swan!" cried Renee from the sitting room. "Don't you teach him things like that!" Charlie looked alarmed.

"I wasn't teaching him anything, Renee," said Charlie quickly. "I'm chastising our son for objectifying women."

Bella didn't understand, so she turned her attention to her letter magnets on the fridge. Her mother distracted her almost immediately.

"Emmett Charles!"she rebuked. "You will respect every single young lady there. If I hear you've been anything less than a gentleman—"

"I know! I know!" interrupted Emmett, irritated._ "You won't let me date until I've graduated high school!"_ He mimicked Renee in a high, girlish voice.

"That's right, young man, and don't you forget it," said Renee, pointing a threatening finger at her exuberant son.

"Like I could," grumbled Emmett under his breath as Renee turned to the cupboard and retrieved three granola bars. She handed one to each older child, taking care to open the final one for Bella, whose fingers were still not deft enough to conquer the wrapper.

"Here, sweetie," said Renee gently, watching as Bella nibbled the chocolate chips out of the treat at her small _Fisher Price_ table.

"Oh, don't be sad, Boo!" cried Emmett jovially. "I'll come back for you in two weeks!"

"I know," said Bella softly, trying to imagine how long that would be. Bella measured time in school days and sleeps.

"Fourteen sleeps," said Emmett easily. Bella's eyes began to fill with tears at the very thought—she missed her brother when he went to Nathan's house for only _two_ sleeps.

"Fourteen?" she confirmed, hoping he'd made a mistake.

"Aw, don't cry!" he said sadly, tossing his wrapper aside and stepping towards her. "We'll be back before you know it!"

"I don't want you to go," declared Bella boldly. "You gotta stay here."

"I've got to go," corrected Emmett. "Alice and I will be back very, very soon. Maybe you'll even spend some time with Old Batty!"

Bella choked back a laugh at the look on her mother's face..

"Emmett!" she scolded. Mrs. Finchley, or 'Old Batty', was their elderly neighbour who often looked after Emmett, Alice and Bella when their parents had an engagement.

"She _hates_ me, mom," said Emmett. "I know it."

"She's been nothing but kind to you," scolded Renee. "You be nice."

"She made me eat spouts!" cried Emmett, offended. "She _knows _I hate those!"

Renee rolled her eyes as Emmett turned back to Bella.

"We'll be back before you can even miss us," said Emmett softly. Charlie smiled at the interaction, thanking his lucky stars that Emmett had followed his father's example and treated his littlest sister with gentleness.

Alice, being so close in age, had not been granted as much.

"Promise?" asked Bella sadly, eying Renee's calendar on the wall.

"Pinkie promise," said Emmett solemnly, offering Bella his little finger. The two entwined their digits and shook hands enthusiastically as Alice began to talk of all the anticipated camp activities.

"Love you, Boo," said Emmett, once he had let Bella's hand go. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and she flushed bright red, tossing her plump arms around his neck. Emmett stood up straight, taking his tiny sister with him. He held her around the middle as he carried her closer to the door, releasing her amidst a torrent of girlish giggles. Bella smiled up at him and smoothed her flyaway hair.

"There's the bus," said Renee quickly, spotting the big yellow bus pulling to a stop outside their house. Alice gave a little jump of excitement as she grabbed her pink backpack and suitcase, rushing to the door.

"Bye Bell!" she cried. "See you in a few weeks!" She kissed both of her parents before planting a similar one on Bella's cheek, taking off through the door.

"Bye sweetheart!" called Renee, laughing. Emmett hugged his father and kissed his mother before turning back to Bella, grinning.

"Fourteen sleeps, Boo. Count them."

And with that, he was gone, loping excitedly towards the big bus. Bella watched them both go through the kitchen window, jealousy and disappointment coursing through her very soul.

How she wished she was old enough to go too.

ooOoo

_July 2, 2000_

Bella sat on the floor of the living room, a vast array of Legos scattered around her. Her mother had told her that she could take them from her brother's room, even though she _knew_ Emmett didn't like sharing his blocks. _Emmett needs to learn to share,_ Renee had said. _Go ahead. Play!_

And so she did. She stacked the blocks and created a castle. She imagined the sole pink block (one of Alice's that had lost its way) to be the princess while Emmett's fire block (from a fireman set) was the dragon. Bella's toy pony served as a gallant knight to rescue the princess from the dragon's keep, just like in _Sleeping Beauty._ Bella loved that movie. She wanted to be a princess too.

"Come here, sweetheart, mommy's got something to ask you," said Renee softly, peeking her smiling face into the living room. Bella grinned and jumped up, chasing after her. She found her mother in the kitchen, surrounded by dishes and Tupperware. She even saw the old blanket that the dryer had ruined on the table.

"What do you say to a picnic?" asked her mother jubilantly. "We can make up some sandwiches and things and wait until daddy gets home and eat supper in the back yard!"

"Yeah!" cried Bella excitedly. Emmett and Alice might have got to go to camp, but she would get her very own picnic!

"Wonderful," said Renee. "Why don't you go and finish your blocks while I get ready? Dad should be back in about an hour." Bella nodded eagerly and returned to her blocks with renewed vigor. When Renee next poked her head in, Bella had finished the final lopsided turret that made up the elaborate castle. By the time Charlie came home. Bella's pony knight was midway through slaying the dragon.

"Come on, Bell!" called Renee from the back yard. "We're all ready!"

"Almost!" called Bella. "Just a minute! The dragon's almost dead!"

"Quick!" called Renee. "It'll rain soon!"

"I'm almost done!" cried Bella again, ramming her horse into the blocks.

"Bella! Come on!" Renee was laughing now.

"I don't want to!" cried Bella crossly. _Just a few more minutes…_

Her mother appeared in the doorway just then, smiling. She had donned her favourite yellow dress and her wide-brimmed sunhat, looking very ready for a special picnic.

"Come on, Bell, daddy's waiting for our picnic," she said enticingly. Bella hadn't seen her daddy all day, since he left early for work, and she glanced up eagerly.

Dragon or daddy?

"Emmett and Alice will be home next week, and you want them to know you were good, right?" Emmett always pouted when his mother reminded him of his baby sister's good behaviour in the face of his own misdeeds.

"Fine!" said Bella, finally, tossing her toy aside. She ran to her mother and wrapped her arms around her middle, giving Renee a tight squeeze. She felt her mother's hands on her back as she chuckled, returning the embrace. Bella let her mother take her hand and lead the way through the house, moving to the open back patio door.

"Hey baby," said her daddy softly, and Bella felt her heart jolt. "Come sit with me."

Bella bolted forward, a wide grin on her face at the sight of her daddy waiting for her on the dryer-ruined checkered blanket. Bella _loved_ her daddy, and she hugged him tight when her knees made contact with the ground next to him, snuggling in close the way Emmett liked to do on movie nights. Her mother seated herself across from them in the dainty way Alice had mastered, but Bella had never quite gotten the hang of.

"Did you have a good day, Bell?" asked Charlie.

"Yes!" chirped Bella. "We made breakfast sandwiches, and then I played on Jamie's trampoline, then I watched _Sleeping Beauty, _then I played with Emmett's Legos!"

Charlie laughed.

"Did you catch bad guys?" she asked her father suddenly. "Did you throw 'em in the slammer?"

"Not today," he said gently. "Just filled out paperwork, I'm afraid."

"Oh."

"Here, hon," said Renee, handing Bella a sandwich wedge. She took an eager bite, not having noticed how hungry she was during her dragon slaying play time.

"Sweetheart?" asked Charlie gently, prodding Bella in the tummy as she swallowed her bite.

"Tickles!" Bella squealed, squirming away from the offending finger. Her daddy had a mischievous look on his face as he wiggled it again.

"Mom!" she cried, scuttling to Renee's side of the blanket. She warded her daddy's tickling finger off with the last bit of her sandwich, giggling with the mustardy crust slid over it.

"You're going to be a good girl tonight, right?" asked Charlie suddenly, lounging back on the grass.

"Yeah…" said Bella, watching him warily.

Daddy only told her to be good when he wasn't going to be there.

"You remember what's happening tonight, right?" asked Renee. "You remember where you're going?"

And then it all came back to her, and Bella _did_ remember.

"At Mrs. Finchley's house," said Bella quickly. "You and dad got a party."

"Good girl," said Renee. "We'll just be a phone call away if you need us. You remember daddy's work number? We're going to be at the station."

Bella recited the number in a confident, chipper voice and Charlie smiled. He had made sure that all of his children, from as early on as possible, had known both his work and home numbers. Over the course of his career, he had seen far too many children lost and without a way to contact their frantic parents, and he'd made damn sure that his kids would never end up in that situation.

"Can I bring a stuffy to Mrs. Finchley's house?" asked Bella sweetly.

"Just one," said Renee.

Bella would have liked more, but she knew her mother well enough to know that she wouldn't budge.

"Can I bring a story?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Can I bring _Where the Wild Things Are?" _she asked.

"We'll see."

"What do you say to some fishing this weekend?" asked Charlie suddenly. "Uncle Billy's bringing Rachel this time, and I know she'd like a friend."

"Oh yes, daddy!" cried Bella, positively beaming. Alice had been right after all. "Can I wear my hat? The fishing one?"

"I'd expect nothing less," grinned Charlie. Bella leaned over and kissed his cheek with a loud _smack,_ jumping in surprise when she saw a bright flash of light. Bella saw her mother holding the camera.

"Can I try, mom? Please?" she squealed, reaching both hands out to take it.

"Sure," said Renee. "Take one of daddy and I."

The two squished together, Renee grabbing onto Charlie to keep from falling over as she tripped. Bella aimed the camera with her eye in the peep hole, and pressed the button, delighted when the camera flashed, capturing the pair of them on film.

Then she spotted a buttercup.

_Flash._

Daddy's moustache.

_Flash._

Mommy's hat.

_Flash._

A thieving picnic ant.

_Flash._

_Flash, flash, flash, _until the camera _flashed_ one last time, and the film ran out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- _July 2, 2000_

"Come on, Bella, we're running late as it is," said Charlie hastily, watching as Bella hopped down the staircase, backpack in hand. She was spending the evening with Mrs. Finchley while her mommy and daddy went to the police officer party that they always had at the start of summer. Bella had once asked her daddy why she had to stay with the neighbour, since weren't kids supposed to like parties too? Weren't there going to be balloons, and treat bags, and presents and cake? And games? Surely there would be games?

Daddy had told her that it was a grown up party with grown up talk and glasses of wine that Bella wasn't allowed to have. Mommy had dressed in her nicest dress and her pointy heel shoes with the silver bracelet that daddy had bought her last Christmas. It had some real, sparkly diamonds on it, and Bella just loved to try it on. Her daddy had given in to her mother's insistence and put on the outfit mommy had bought him, despite his accusation that it was a "monkey-suit". Bella had giggled when he had said that, since she didn't think monkeys wore bowties.

"Baby, come _on,"_ said Renee, exasperated, taking her daughter by the hand and rushing her down the final three steps. Bella had taken a long time picking out the right pajamas, her best stuffy and finally, a story. Mom had said that _Where the Wild Things Are _was Alice's special book, and that it would be best if she took one of her own stories. Bella had forgotten one of her books at Mrs. Finchley's house last time, and her cat, Nancy, had peed on it.

She had settled on _Junie B. Jones and the Yucky Blucky Fruitcake_. She had read that book lots and lots of times before, and she wouldn't mind if she forgot it. Alice would be very mad if Bella left her _Where the Wild Things Are_ for the cat to pee on. Plus, it was a chapter book, and Bella knew that chapters meant she was more grown up than those little kids with picture books.

"Go get in your seat, Bella," said a harassed Renee as Bella lingered at the door, arranging each piece of Velcro on her blue sandals to line up perfectly. Bella scowled when Charlie reached down and slapped the Velcro on for her, scooping her up her under the arms and carrying her quickly outside. Bella watched in quiet disappointment as he locked the door behind his wife, checking it to ensure it really was locked.

Daddy said that lots of people forgot to double check their doors, and that's how the bandits got in.

Whatever that meant.

"In your seat," Charlie said again, kissing the her temple. Bella heaved a great sigh and slung her bag over her shoulder, rushing towards daddy's police car. Bella loved riding in the cruiser, especially when daddy let her play with the sirens.

"Can I try the lights?" she asked eagerly, opening the back of the police car. Daddy had told her that that's where the bad guys sat, and that the metal cage in front of her was so that they couldn't get him while he was driving.

Bella liked that cage.

"Not today, baby," said Charlie gruffly, slipping into the driver's seat. Renee got in after him, and in a most un-daddy-like way, the car began to move before Bella had gotten her seatbelt buckled up.

"I'm not done!" she cried, fumbling quickly with the buckle. Charlie glanced back at her through the rear-view mirror, but didn't stop the car.

Bella was outraged.

"Daddy, what if we crash?" she demanded angrily, the butterflies in her belly easing up as she managed to click the belt in place.

"Mrs. Finchley lives around the corner, Bella," soothed Charlie. "You'll be fine."

"Well, still," Bella groused. _"You_ said we always need belts before driving."

"And look! Your belt's on," said her daddy in a cheery, mocking sort of voice that made Bella flare up with anger. Before she could speak, however, she saw old Mrs. Finchley's house come into view, with Nancy perched on the windowsill.

"Here we go," sighed Charlie heavily, stopping outside the house. Bella undid her buckle and opened her door, shooting Charlie a very surly look. He reached out to take her hand, but Bella jerked hers away in a small fit of temper, turning on her heel towards the door. Renee saw and rolled her eyes as she took Bella's bag from the backseat, and Charlie just chuckled.

"Go on to the door and ring the bell," he encouraged softly. Bella loved to ring doorbells. There was no hesitation as she ran up the drive, past her mother, and to the door, reaching up to press her little finger to the button on the wall.

She heard the satisfying _ding-dong! _of the bell and wheeled around to smile eagerly at her mother.

Mrs. Finchley opened the door almost at once.

"There you are!" she said, smiling. "I was starting to think you weren't coming!"

"Sorry Alma," said Renee quickly. "We're running a little late."

Mrs. Finchley just laughed.

"That's alright," she said. "Come on in, Bella. I've got some games up from the basement."

Bella smiled up at the kindly old face and moved past her into the house, stopping in the kitchen to pet Nancy, who was mewing at her feet.

"You be a good girl," said Renee from the door. "Don't give Mrs. Finchley a hard time when it's time for bed."

"I won't," Bella sighed exasperatedly. Nancy purred noisily as Bella scratched her favourite spot—right above her tail.

"We should be back around one," came Renee's voice. "Is that too late for you?"

"Not at all, dear. You and the mister have a good time. Bella's always a good girl."

Bella glanced up and caught her mother's smile. Her daddy approached the door as well, and gave Mrs. Finchley a brief handshake before taking her mother's hand in his own, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

"Come say goodbye, at least," said Charlie jovially, peeking over at Bella.

She grumbled.

"Oh come now," said Mrs. Finchley enticingly. "Come and give them a kiss, and then we'll make some cocoa."

"'Kay," she said, her love of chocolate outweighing her anger towards her daddy. She left Nancy in the kitchen and moved back to the door, swinging her arms up to hug her mother.

"Be a good girl. Daddy and I will pick you up very late, so you've got to go to sleep, okay?"

"'Kay." Bella had an unfortunate habit on insisting on staying up to meet her parents whenever she spent nights with Mrs. Finchley.

It might have had something to do with Emmett telling her that only kids that stayed _awake_ got to go home with mom and dad. If a kid fell asleep, that meant they had to live with Old Batty.

Stupid Emmett.

"Love you," she said, kissing Bella's cheek and leaving big, juicy lipstick print behind.

"Mom!" squealed Bella, rubbing her cheek with the back of her hand. Renee laughed and stepped back as Charlie pulled her in for a hug.

"Be good, kiddo," he said simply. She felt his lips on her hair, and a little bit of her anger melted away.

Her daddy was her favourite boy, after all.

"I will," she said earnestly. She wiped her lipstick hand on daddy's cheek, much to his chagrin, and hopped away, grinning.

"Love you," he said, the edges of his mouth twitching as he wiped at the lipstick on his face.

"Love you more," said Bella, hopping on the spot.

"Love you most," said Charlie gently, finishing the little round he and Bella had perfected from the moment she could speak. With one final grin and an extra thanks to Mrs. Finchley, Bella watched out the front window as her daddy's police cruiser rounded the corner, and disappeared. The twinge of sadness she felt as she watched them go dissipated almost at once, when Mrs. Finchley spoke.

"What do you say to some Candyland?"

ooOoo

"Who's that one?" asked Bella eagerly, pointing down at the old photograph.

"Harold," said Mrs. Finchley easily. "He was Mr. Finchley."

"Oh. Where's he?"

"He's gone," said Mrs. Finchley easily. "Went to God ten years ago."

"Where's God?" asked Bella, looking up with wide, curious eyes, and Mrs. Finchley barked out a laugh.

"God's a _who,_ not a _where,"_ she corrected easily.

"What's he do?"

"He made you, and me, and the Earth and the trees," said Mrs. Finchley easily. "And one day, when we get old, we go back to him."

"Oh."

Bella didn't understand.

"Who's that one?" she asked, distracted once again.

"Lucinda," said Mrs. Finchley. "My daughter."

"But she's big," said Bella, confused.

"She _was_ little," said Mrs. Finchley easily, "but little people grow into big people."

"Were _you_ little once, Mrs. Finchley?"

"Yes, Bella," she laughed, pointing to another photo. "I'm little right there."

"Wow…" said Bella, pressing her face closer to the book to get a better look. "Will I be big?"

"Yes."

"Will Emmett be big?"

"Very," said Mrs. Finchley, chuckling.

"Will Alice be big?"

"Not as big as that brother of yours," she said with a hearty chuckle. "I don't think very many people will end up as big as him."

"Oh."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up a football player once he hits high school," she mused idly. "He's definitely got the build."

"Oh." Bella sipped at her rapidly cooling hot cocoa that Mrs. Finchley had been nice enough to add little marshmallows to. She even let Bella have a little piece of brownie as a treat.

"It's nearing 8:30," said Mrs. Finchley gently. "Why don't you go and put your pajamas on, and I'll get you settled in bed?"

"Now?" Bella said, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "I'm not tired yet."

"Well, you will be soon," said the old woman kindly. "Come now. Put your jammies on and go hop into bed. I'll even read you some of your story, if you'd like."

Bella wanted very badly to protest, but remembered her mother's direction before she left. _She was not to give Mrs. Finchley a hard time at bedtime. _She didn't want to make Mrs. Finchley tattle to mom, so she did as she was bid. She slid from the sofa and sidled into Mrs. Finchley's spare room, where Nancy was curled on her backpack.

"Watch out, kitty," Bella said softly, nudging the animal aside. Nancy eyed her suspiciously and leapt up onto the pillows, her green eyes glowing in the dim light from the window. Bella slipped out of her day clothes and donned her pajamas, making sure all the tags were at the back and she used the big mirror to make sure that her butt-crack wasn't showing. _Mom wasn't here to hike up her bottoms tonight._ Just as she finished stuffing her old clothes back into her bag, a soft knock sounded at the door.

"All done?" asked Mrs. Finchley softly, poking her head in. Bella invited her in and stepped aside as Mrs. Finchley moved Nancy nearer to the bottom of her bed.

"You don't mind if Nancy spends the night, do you?" she asked gently. "She always sleeps in here."

Bella was secretly excited at the idea of a sleepover with Nancy. She was like a real-life stuffy, that was warm and soft and that purred.

"No," she said, feigning indifference. She slid under the covers of the bed and handed Mrs. Finchley the _Junie B. Jones _book, before Mrs. Finchley cleared her throat.

"Forgetting something?" she asked, amused. Bella's brow furrowed.

"Teeth!" she cried suddenly, sitting up with a jolt. She grinned sheepishly as she retrieved her toothbrush from her bag and rushed to the bathroom, squeezing an ample amount of toothpaste onto the brush. She just reached the sink's knobs and was able to get the job done all on her own, just as Mrs. Finchley called out another direction.

"Pee!" she called, and Bella closed the door to do her business. Once her teeth were clean and the toilet was flushed, she returned to the spare room. Mrs. Finchley had turned on the bedside lamp, and was seated gingerly on the edge of the quilted bed with the little chapter book in her hand. Bella jumped up on the bed and pressed an easy kiss to Mrs. Finchley's cheek before settling in.

"You're sweet," declared Mrs. Finchley, with a gentle tap on Bella's nose. Bella smiled and said nothing, settling down in her pillows to listen as Mrs. Finchley began to read. Although she was _not_ tired, Bella found her eyes growing heavier and heavier as the story went on. Sometime during chapter 2, Nancy sidled over and draped herself overtop of Bella's warm stomach, and the little hand found its way into the fur, Before Bella knew it, her eyes were drifting closed, before Mrs. Finchley could even finish the second chapter of _Junie B._

ooOoo

Bella woke in the night with a sudden jolt, her heart racing and her eyes watering. The room was dark and unfamiliar as she looked around, seeing nothing.

Only when Nancy mewed and bumped her hand with her furry head did she remember where she was, and why she was there.

_The police man party._

Bella was not good with telling time. Her teacher had taught her that there were sixty minutes in one hour, and sixty seconds in one minute, and that one second was a "one-Mississippi", but it didn't make much sense to her. Daddy had once told her that if she fell asleep at 8:00pm and woke up at 7:00am, she had slept for 11 hours.

When Bella looked at Mrs. Finchley's red-numbered clock, she saw that the time read 3:34. It was still dark outside.

But Bella had to pee.

So quietly, she snuck from the bed, dislodging Nancy from the sheets in order to sneak from the room to the bathroom. She didn't want to wake Mrs. Finchley and make her upset, like Emmett had done last time he'd stayed here overnight.

"What are you doing up, honey?" At the sound of the phantom voice, Bella started and glanced around. Mrs. Finchley's words had come from the living room, where Bella only now noticed that the little lamp beside the old woman's favourite seat was still on. If she listened closely, she could hear the clicking of knitting needles too.

"Bathroom," said Bella groggily, rubbing at her eyes. Her ducky pajamas were askew and her hair felt like a big knotted mess when she scratched her scalp, so she tugged on her shirt to straighten it, just as Mrs. Finchley turned in her seat.

"Go on then, sweetheart," she said gently, and Bella thought she looked rather odd.

Her eyes were red and tired, but at the same time, she looked very awake.

"Isn't it your bed time yet?" asked Bella incredulously.

"Not yet," said the woman softly. "Go use the bathroom and go back to sleep."

"Is my mommy here yet?" she asked sleepily.

"No, honey."

"When's she going to be back?" asked Bella.

"Very soon, I'd imagine," said Mrs. Finchley. "Go back to bed."

"But—"

"Shh," said Mrs. Finchley gently, rising from her seat with a groan. "Come on and go pee, then go to sleep. I'll tuck you back in."

Bella didn't protest any more, though she couldn't help but glance at the red numbers on the clock when Mrs. Finchley put her back into the spare room bed.

3:43.

"Mom said one," said Bella sleepily, fighting her heavy eyelids as Mrs. Finchley kissed her brow. "That clock says three."

"Don't worry about it," said Mrs. Finchley softly. "Go to sleep now, love."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Finchley," said Bella finally, unable to fight her drowsiness.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep tight."

Nancy snuggled again, and Bella's eyes fell shut.

ooOoo

When Bella's eyes next opened, it was full daylight outside. Nancy was nowhere to be found (though her stuffed puppy dog was still there), and she could hear voices in Mrs. Finchley's living room.

"There's no trouble keeping her here!" she heard Mrs. Finchley cry. "Please, be reasonable…"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," said a strange voice. "It's out of my hands. Social services is taking over from here."

Bella felt a twinge of unease as she pulled herself from her bed, padding out into the living room. When she arrived, she was startled to see policemen that she was sure worked with her daddy sitting beside Mrs. Finchley on her sofa.

Mrs. Finchley was crying.

"Oh honey," she said, catching sight of the tousled child. "Come here."

Bella went warily, uncertain as she clutched her stuffy to her chest and moved quickly away from the uniformed men, whose eyes were glued to her. She recognized the youngest of them, Officer Ryan, as someone her daddy had brought home to dinner just as school was ending.

"Hey kiddo," he said, his smile turning into a grimace.

"Hi," offered Bella quietly, glancing up at Mrs. Finchley. "You sad?" she asked sympathetically. Mrs. Finchley just patted her hair, refusing to answer.

"I'm not going to let you take her from everything she knows and ship her off to god knows where," she said firmly, eying the policemen.

"Who's going away?" asked Bella eagerly. _Was someone going on vacation?_

"Like I said, ma'am," said Officer Ryan, swallowing thickly. "We're just delivering the news. It's up to social services to decide what happens to her now."

"Who?" asked Bella quickly, looking between the two familiar sets of eyes, and even chancing a glance at the unfamiliar man in uniform.

"Which camp are your brother and sister at?" asked Officer Ryan gently. "Mrs. Finchley tells us they're at summer camp."

"Camp Nor'Wester," said Bella easily, having memorized the name of the coveted summer getaway.

"Great," said Officer Ryan. "Bella, there's going to be a lady here to speak with you this afternoon, alright?"

"Where's mommy and daddy?" asked Bella suddenly, peering around the room. "I wasn't supposed to sleep over here."

Mrs. Finchley let out a strangled sort of noise, and Bella wheeled around to face her. Nancy brushed against her feet.

"We'll get going now," said Officer Ryan, glancing at the crying Mrs. Finchley. The other officer said a kind goodbye, and Bella watched with curious bewilderment as they took their leave.

They drove a white, siren-y car just like her daddy's.

"Oh, I'm so _sorry_ sweetheart," said Mrs. Finchley sadly, taking Bella in her arms and holding her close.

"Did you do a bad thing?" asked Bella gently, taking the woman's face in her hands. Whenever she did a bad thing, her mommy made her say sorry. _Like the time she'd given Alice's Barbie a haircut…_

"Honey, those policemen brought us some very sad news," she said gently, pressing Bella's face to her shoulder.

"Oh."

"There was an accident last night," she said softly. "You're mommy and daddy were…"

"Are they coming soon?"

"No, sweetheart," quavered the sad woman. "They're gone."

"Gone where?"

"To God," said Mrs. Finchley gently. "They passed away in an accident, sweetheart, and I'm _so_ sorry."

Bella didn't understand.

"So another sleepover, then?" asked Bella, and much to her confusion, the old woman burst into renewed tears.

Bella felt like crying too.

"Mom said one," she reminded Mrs. Finchley. "She won't be long."

"Honey… they're gone," said Mrs. Finchley again, repeating that same word. "They won't be coming back." Bella stared at her in abject confusion, fear rising in her belly.

They always came back.

"Mom said one, Mrs. Finchley," said Bella in her most soothing voice. "I'm sure she'll be here at daytime one instead of nighttime one. Don't be sad."

"Oh honey…" said Mrs. Finchley softly, sniffling loudly as she rubbed Bella's back. The fear that had been blossoming inside of her grew and grew, threatening to choke her as she thought on Mrs. Finchley's words.

_Gone to God…_

She did not understand.

**A/N: Not much interest so far... I have to say, I thought there'd be more people with something to say. I have three and a half completed chapters, and if I can get enough people interested to keep it going, I'll try to have a quick posting schedule.**

**If people aren't interested, let me know. I'll switch my focus to IHITV (or do something else completely new), and leave this one as my side-story. Let me know which you'd like to see more of!**

**Also: would anyone be interested in some pictures for this story on my website, once it's back up and running? I have a mind to find some pictures of all the kids as LITTLE kids (i.e.: how they appear in the beginning of this story).**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- _July 3, 2000_

Bella was still in her blue ducky pajamas when the lady showed up.

"My name is Liza," she said gently. "I work at the social welfare office. Do you know what that is?"

"No," said Bella honestly, pressing herself firmly into Mrs. Finchley's side. It was past daytime one o'clock now, and she was growing more anxious by the minute.

Her mommy and daddy were very, very late.

"It's my job to look after you, and make sure you've got someone to take care of you now that your parents are gone."

"They're _not_ gone," Bella insisted stubbornly. "They're just late…" Liza gave her a sympathetic smile and Mrs. Finchley's arm tightened around her.

"Your brother and sister will be collected from camp as soon as we find a place for you," she said gently. "Why don't you go and play with that sweet kitty by the door while I speak with Alma?"

Bella didn't want to let Mrs. Finchley go, but she felt the woman's hand on her back, gently nudging her forth.

"Go on, honey," she said hoarsely. "Nancy's toy mouse is just at the top of the basement steps, if you want it."

Bella didn't want it, but she left anyways. Her mommy had always taught her that when adults wanted private time, she was not to listen in, but since her mommy wasn't here and that Liza lady seemed to know where she was, Bella disobeyed. She snatched the grey, fuzzy mouse from the steps quickly, dangling it before an entranced Nancy as she strained to hear.

"…her aunt in Arizona," came Liza's voice. "We've contacted her, and she's agreed to take her until we can find a suitable foster home."

"Just keep her here!" said Mrs. Finchley, using her firm voice she used when Emmett disobeyed. "There's no reason to ship her out of state."

"It's best for her to be with her family right now," said Liza gently. "I don't think she fully understands what's happened, and when she does, it'll be best for her to have someone she knows—"

"I've known that girl since the day she was born!" cried Mrs. Finchley. "Renee's aunt barely knows her! I doubt they've ever met!"

"Mrs. Finchley, please, be calm," said Liza gently. Bella had to listen very hard to hear the next words.

Nancy mewled softly, and Bella shushed her by dangling the mouse in front of her face.

She wanted her parents to be back.

"I would love to keep her here, but if her family in Arizona wants to take her, they have precedence. Social services is inspecting her home as we speak. Louisa Higgenbotham is a good woman, I assure you."

"You've never met her either," growled Mrs. Finchley. "Renee talked about that woman something fierce, let me tell you. Never cared one whit for Renee or her children, or even her own sister, for that matter. She always said her auntie Louisa was the only family she had left, but she never even bothered to keep in touch."

"People change, Alma," said Liza. "Isabella is going to her aunt in Arizona. I'm truly sorry for your grief, but that child is not yours to take."

"At least wait until her siblings come home from camp," pleaded Mrs. Finchley. "Don't break them up."

"Louisa wants the girl," said Liza again. "The other two are fine at camp for a few days. We'll do our best to find a home for all three of them, but it's hard enough finding a home for one child, much less three. And I hear the boy can be a piece of work."

"Emmett's boisterous," defended Mrs. Finchley valiantly. "He's a _good boy—"_

"Regardless," said Liza sharply, cutting her off. "I'm going to go to her house to collect a few of her things, and when I come back, we'll be off. I suggest you say your goodbyes now."

"You _can't_ do this," said Mrs. Finchley, and Bella frowned when she realized that the old woman was crying again. "Don't tear that poor baby away from everything she knows—"

"I'll see you in an hour, Alma," said Liza, interrupting again.

_She's very rude,_ Bella thought. Her mom sometimes sent her to the time-out steps when she interrupted.

"I'll see you soon, Bella," said Liza, appearing suddenly in the kitchen with a chipper smile and bright, happy eyes. "You and I are going on a trip."

"A vacation?" asked Bella, excited. Mommy and daddy had promised to go to Disneyworld, one day…

"Sort of," said Liza gently. "We're going to your Auntie Louisa's house in Arizona."

"Are mom and dad coming too?"

"No, honey," said Liza. "They're not here."

"I can't go with strangers," Bella blurted. Daddy wouldn't like that.

"We're not strangers," laughed Liza. "I know all about you, and you know about me!"

"Nuh-uh," said Bella dubiously. She knew her name was Liza, and that she worked for social services, but that was it.

"Sure you do," she said, kneeling before Bella. "My name's Liza, I work for social services, my favourite colour's green, I live right here in Seattle, and I have a pet fish named Puck."

"Oh."

"And I know that you live in Seattle, with your brother and sister, who are at Camp Nor'Wester, that you're going into grade two, and that you like to read _Junie B. Jones,"_ said Liza. Bella stared. "See? We're great friends!"

"I guess so," admitted Bella, suspicious. Liza tapped Bella's nose with the end of her finger, winking as she drew herself back up to full height.

"I'll be back in about an hour, okay? I'm just going to collect some things from your house, so that you can get dressed, and then we'll be off to my office."

"Okay," said Bella softly, glancing at Mrs. Finchley's kitchen counters to avoid Liza's very direct gaze. She heard the floor creak behind her, followed by the gentle padding of footsteps that told her Mrs. Finchley had come in as well.

"See you soon!" said Liza, slipping her high heeled shoes on and opening the screen door. She swung her beaded purse onto her shoulder and let the door fall closed with a loud _slam!_ as Bella turned back to her babysitter.

"Where's Arizona?" she asked curiously. "Why aren't mom and dad going too? And why do Emmett and Alice have to stay at camp when I get to go to Arizona?"

Mrs. Finchley looked very, very sad, and Bella backtracked, falling silent. The old woman reached down and hoisted her up onto the dining table, trying her best to staunch her tears.

"You're going away, sweet one," she said gently, pressing a kiss to Bella's forehead. "I'll miss you, but you be a good girl, you hear?"

"When am I coming back?" asked Bella sadly. She didn't like this sleepover at Mrs. Finchley's. She liked games and hot cocoa and when mom and dad came back.

She missed her stuffies.

"I don't know," admitted Mrs. Finchley. "That woman says you're going to stay with your mommy's auntie."

"Oh. Louisa?" asked Bella, testing the new name on her tongue. It felt strange there, and she grimaced.

Mommy had only ever mentioned Auntie Louisa once or twice, and Bella knew she didn't like her.

"Yes," said Mrs. Finchley softly. "Liza's going to drop you off there, and you'll stay with her until they find you a new place to stay."

"But I want to go home," said Bella, her voice quavering. "I want to go home, Mrs. Finchley, and I want mommy to come and get me now. Can I go home now?"

Mrs. Finchley swallowed heavily, pursing her lips.

"I wish you could, honey, but your mommy and daddy gone to God, remember?" she asked gently. Bella felt her eyes burn.

She wanted her mom and dad to come back from God, though she didn't know how far that was from here. She felt the anger bubble in the pit of her belly as she thought of how her mommy had lied about coming home at one o'clock. Two one o'clocks had passed, and still, no mom.

_Liar, liar, liar._

"Let's go get your book and your backpack, okay?" said Mrs. Finchley, kissing her on the forehead again. "Then maybe we can make more cocoa and play one last round of Candyland?"

Bella nodded her head quickly and slid down from the table, moving ahead to the spare bedroom where she had spent the night. Her dirty clothes had been folded and put in the bag by Mrs. Finchley, and she noticed a bag of Oreos on top.

"Those are for you, honey," said Mrs. Finchley softly. "A treat for the road."

"Thanks," said Bella eagerly, grinning up as she examined the bulging sandwich bag. She replaced them gently on top of the clothing, careful not to crack or break them, before she wheeled around and snatched her book off of the end table. She plunked it down on the cookies, followed by her puppy dog stuffy, and zipped the bag up tightly, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Can we have cocoa and Candyland now?" asked Bella eagerly. Mrs. Finchley smiled down at her and nodded indulgently, following Bella as she darted into the kitchen. Mrs. Finchley took a little pot from her cupboard and began adding milk and cocoa and even a little bit from a Hershey's chocolate bar and some sugar to make it extra sweet. Bella smiled widely when six little marshmallows were dropped in the mug after the cocoa was hot and poured, and even though it burned her tongue, she took a big drink.

"Careful now," laughed Mrs. Finchley softly. "It's hot."

"But it's very yummy," Bella complimented. She took the mug carefully in her hands and walked slowly to the table, so as not to spill, where the game box was still sitting from the previous night. Mrs. Finchley didn't say a word as she opened the box, letting Bella snatch eagerly at the blue piece that was her favourite. Once she had it in hand, she laid it ceremoniously on the start square, letting Mrs. Finchley's yellow piece fall in behind her.

"You go first," said Mrs. Finchley, handing her the dice.

And so she did.

Bella drank half of her cocoa and had rolled the dice eight times before the doorbell rang again, and Mrs. Finchley turned a nasty shade of greenish-grey. Bella stopped mid-move and watched as she stood and walked to the door, carefully pulling it open.

Liza was back.

"Hi, Alma," she said genially. "I've got her things. It's time to go." Bella saw that Liza was pulling her mother's black suitcase that she used when they went out of town or camping.

"That's mom's," Bella said accusingly, glancing down at the bag.

Liza just smiled.

"You're just borrowing it," she soothed easily. "Come with me, and you can get dressed before we leave. Your backpack's all packed up?"

"Yes," said Bella sadly. "Can't we finish Candyland first?"

"We've got Candyland at my office," said Liza. "We might be able to play it there."

"Are _you _coming to the office too?" asked Bella, grabbing onto Mrs. Finchley's hand.

"No, honey. Just you and Miss Liza are going."

"Why?"

"Because I'm taking you to your Aunt Louisa's, remember?" asked Liza. "She's going to look after you."

"I don't want to," said Bella, suddenly fearful.

She had been sure Mrs. Finchley would come along too.

"It'll be fun," said Liza easily. She opened the suitcase and grabbed a pair of Bella's shorts and a pink t-shirt that had once belonged to Alice. She handed them to Bella without so much as a glance, and looked up at Mrs. Finchley.

"Can she dress herself?"

"Yeah!" said Bella, indignant.

She was _not_ a baby.

"Well go on and get dressed then, kiddo," said Liza, and Bella sensed no compromise in her voice.

She'd have liked to stay in her ducky jammies.

Once she was dressed, she shoved the dirty pajamas inside her bag as well, hoping she wouldn't break her Oreos. Liza was speaking softly to a tearful Mrs. Finchley again as she waved Bella's Velcro sandals at her.

"Put them on," she urged, "and say goodbye to Alma. We're going to leave now."

"I want you to come," said Bella at once to Mrs. Finchley, ignoring Liza's request to put on her shoes. "Can't I stay here and have another sleepover? I'll let Nancy share the bed again," she bargained.

Mrs. Finchley shook her head.

"No, honey," she said softly. "Put your shoes on."

Bella did as she was told, trying not to cry. If she did, then Liza would _definitely_ think she was a baby.

And she was _not._

"I love you, sweetheart," said Mrs. Finchley, suddenly snatching her up into a hug. Bella returned the hug with vigor, wishing with all her might that Liza and the kind old lady would change their minds, and either let Mrs. Finchley come to Arizona or let Bella stay for another sleepover.

Neither one did.

"Come on, Isabella," said Liza gently, taking her hand. "Time to go." Mrs. Finchley pressed her hand to her mouth and Bella was sure she was going to cry as Liza gently led her outside, where a dark blue car was waiting.

She saw a car seat in the back.

"Be a good girl!" cried Mrs. Finchley from the door, and Bella saw Mrs. Finchley's next-door neighbour peek up from his gardening to watch.

"I will," said Bella, too quiet for Mrs. Finchley to hear her. She glanced up at the familiar house once more and frowned, wondering where she was going.

Where was Arizona?

A small movement in Mrs. Finchley's front window diverted her attention, and she felt a pang of sadness shoot through her.

Bella_ always_ said goodbye to Nancy.

"Wait!" she cried, as Liza opened the door. Liza ignored her and gently ushered her into her seat, buckling her in. Bella twisted and wriggled in protest, but could do nothing against the woman's hold as Nancy paced in the big picture window.

"I forgot to say bye to Nancy!" she cried, watching with incredulity and immense sorrow as Liza started her car.

"Nancy's just fine in the window," soothed Liza softly. "Just sit back and relax. We'll be at my office soon."

Bella's tears could no longer be held in, and she wept bitterly as she watched Mrs. Finchley's house disappear, with the kind old babysitter hunched on her front step, and the tabby cat prowling anxiously behind the glass.

Liza offered her a tissue, and Bella snatched it without ceremony.

"Have you eaten lunch yet?"

Bella shook her head, and wiped at her cheeks, flushing bright red.

"Do you like McDonalds?" she asked. Bella's eyes were still oozing tears and her breath hitched when she tried to speak, so all she could do was nod. Her tummy roiled and ached with sadness as Liza went through the drive-thru, ordering Bella a chicken nugget happy meal. Bella picked at the French fries through her tears, and nibbled on a nugget before she cast it aside, trying not to get anything sticky on Liza's car seats. Liza watched her gently from the rear-view mirror as they drove through the city, passing through parts Bella didn't remember ever seeing. She even saw a cat like Nancy, and that made her cry all over again. By the time they pulled into the parking lot of Liza's office, Bella's was a snotty mess, having wiped her nose and eyes on her arms too many times to count. Liza helped her down from the car, and wrapped an arm around her.

"I know you're sad, but you'll be alright," said Liza gently. "Your auntie will take good care of you, I'm sure."

"I want mommy to come back," Bella said softly, pleading with her. "Can't you go get her at God?"

"At where?" asked Liza, confused.

"Mrs. Finchley said she went with God. We should go get her. And dad too. Then I can go home."

"It doesn't work like that, kiddo," said Liza gently. "Come on inside, and we'll get you cleaned up. Then we can talk with Mary, and be on our way to the airport."

Bella's tears didn't stop when they crossed the threshold of the office building, which Bella found out was not like her daddy's. This one had toys and pictures and bright wall paintings that looked like Winnie the Pooh.

"Come with me, Isabella," said Liza, taking her hand once more. She led Bella out of the bright, child-friendly lobby and into a small, narrow hallway with many doors on either side. She stopped in front of one on the right-hand side and let Bella in ahead of her, pointing her to the sink.

"Go wipe your nose and wash your face," she instructed gently. "And go pee, if you need to. It's a long drive to SeaTac." Bella reached over the sink and turned on the cold tap, taking water in her hand and scrubbing her face with it. She used a paper towel to blow her nose and wipe the water away, before she used the stall. She didn't really have to pee, but she knew that mom didn't like it when she had to stop at the first rest stop they came across when they went on trips because Bella had to go.

_You should go before we leave,_ she would say. _Then we get there faster._

"Good girl," praised Liza, smiling. "Now we'll go talk to Mary, and we'll be off soon."

Mary turned out to be Liza's boss—a woman with a stern face and cropped, blonde hair. She surveyed Bella with a gentle smile, though Bella shied back from her booming voice.

"Your aunt is going to take care of you," she said gently. "Louisa. Liza will fly with you down to the Phoenix, and then someone from Arizona social services will take you to your aunt. Do you understand?"

Bella nodded, even though she didn't. This woman frightened her a little.

"Is Alice going to come too?" said Bella gently, looking up at the fearsome woman.

"Don't worry about Alice and Emmett," she said kindly. "They're going to be at camp for a bit longer until we figure out where they're going. They're good and safe there."

Bella felt her tears return.

"I don't want to go by myself," she pleaded, glancing at Liza.

"I'm going with you, kiddo," said Liza gently. "And then another nice person will take over for me, and then you'll be with your auntie. She loves you very much. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"No," said Bella honestly. "Emmett and Alice should come too."

"Your aunt only has room for you right now," said Mary gently. "If she could take all three of you, she would, but as it is…"

"Why do _I_ have to go?" Bella asked pitifully. Emmett and Alice were bigger than she was…

"Because there's no place else for you right now," said Mary. "Your brother and sister still have time at camp before they need to leave, so they're well cared for."

"Mrs. Finchley said I could have another sleepover," Bella bargained. "She said so. Ask her."

"Mrs. Finchley is a lovely woman, but she's too old to take care of a little girl. You need to be able to play outside and go on play dates. She's had her time raising a daughter," said Liza gently. "She loves you, but she knows that this is where you belong. She wants the best for you, and your auntie is the best."

Bella cried again, and Scary Mary offered her a tissue. She took it with a small 'thank-you' before Liza stood up. Mary handed her a folder with lots of papers in it, and she gave Bella a colouring book and some crayons.

"For the trip," she said gently. "It's a three-hour flight to Phoenix, and you won't want to be bored on the way down."

Bella's tears slowed as she flipped through it, looking at the pictures inside. Maybe Auntie Louisa would have more colouring for her, and maybe she'd have even more crayon colours.

"Have a safe trip," said Mary gently, as Liza led her from the office. "Good luck, Isabella."

Liza led Bella back through the narrow corridor to the Pooh Bear lobby, but before she could so much as glance at a toy to play with, she was out in the rainy parking lot once more. Liza put her back in the car seat in the blue car, beside her now-cold Happy Meal, and began to drive once more.

The radio was the only sound in the car as they drove, and Bella found herself with plenty of time to be bored.

She wished Alice or Emmett were here to play car games. They liked to play I-spy, spot the red car, and they _loved_ singing the annoying car songs that made mom turn the radio up, like the never-ending song.

Mom _hated _the never-ending song, and Bella wanted to sing it, but it would be no fun without her brother here to make silly voices.

Bella wondered whether anyone had told Alice and Emmett that mom and dad had gone to God, and that they'd be there a long time. She wondered if, when someone did tell them, they'd come to stay with Auntie Louisa too, until mom and dad got back. She wondered if maybe, just _maybe,_ they'd let her go back and sleep over at Mrs. Finchley's house, with Nancy and hot cocoa and Candyland.

She hadn't been able to finish her game.

"We're here," said Liza suddenly, breaking Bella from her musing. She glanced around and stared at the sky, where she saw a very big plane hurtling to the ground. It landed with a _whirr_ and a _thud_, and Bella watched as it slowed to a stop, and began to taxi.

She had never seen an airplane so close up before.

"Come on out, and we'll go grab our tickets," said Liza.

Were they going to fly on an airplane? Bella took the woman's hand eagerly in her own, making sure her packsack was secure on her on her back. Liza pulled her suitcase for her, and as they moved into the air-conditioned building packed with people, Bella sidled closer to Liza.

She didn't want to get lost here.

"Gate 32," said Liza in a quiet voice, almost speaking to herself. Bella looked up at the numbers on the walls, seeing number 24 above her head.

Number 32 was just up a ways, not too far from a vending machine.

She wished she had a dollar.

"Here we are," said Liza, standing in the back of the line. She let go of the suitcase and dug around in her purse, procuring the folder Mary had given her back at her office. The line moved slowly, and Bella grew antsy, but eventually, they made it to the desk, where a dark-haired, smiling woman stood. She and Liza exchanged words and Bella saw the woman look down at her with a very sad look on her face.

She wondered if Liza had told her that her parents had left for God. That seemed to make people sad, like Mrs. Finchley, and even though Bella didn't know why, it was beginning to make her sad too.

Mom and dad would be back soon, she knew, and then she could go home to her stuffies and books and bed and the babysitter Mrs. Finchley and Nancy the cat.

"Here you are," said the lady softly, handing some paper to Liza. Liza attached one to Bella's suitcase, another to her backpack and the last one to her own purse before two more papers printed, and Liza took those as well.

"Enjoy your flight," said the sad desk woman, giving Bella an extra-sweet smile as she passed through. Liza put Bella's suitcase on a moving belt and she watched it disappear, wondering where it went.

"Come on," said Liza gently. "We've still got to go through security."

Security, Bella discovered, involved putting her little packsack on a conveyor belt and moving through a gate that beeped when you had metal. Bella didn't beep and her bag was returned to her without question, and Liza's trip through the gates went much the same way. Once her packsack was back with her, Liza led her to another line, with all kinds of people. This time, Liza handed the two last pieces of paper to another lady, who put them through a machine and let them through to a tunnel.

"Is this a cave?" Bella asked curiously, eying the metal walls carefully.

"No," said Liza softly. "We're getting on the airplane now."

Bella grinned. _Emmett_ had never flown on an airplane, and she knew if he could see her now, he'd be very jealous. _He_ might have gotten to go to summer camp, but Bella would get to _fly._

Wait until she told him _that._

"Thirty three F and G," said Liza quickly, ushering Bella down the line. She made Bella sit by the window and told her no when she asked to colour.

"Wait until we're in the air," she advised. "They'll make you put it away in a few minutes anyways." Bella sighed and turned to the window, wishing she could colour, but knowing she would never get bored waiting to fly. She could watch other planes out the window, and Liza let her look at the little magazine in the pouch in front of her. She couldn't read the words, but she could look at the pictures of beaches and oceans and palm trees and coconuts.

There was even one of Mickey Mouse, that she _knew_ was from Disneyworld.

She wished she was going to _that_ airport.

What felt like a very long time afterwards, after a lady showed them how to wear a life jacket and someone had come around to make them buckle up, Bella felt the plane begin to move. A voice came over the speakers then, and Bella bounced in her seat.

"_American Airlines Flight 456 from Seattle to Phoenix, welcome aboard. We would ask that you refrain from using your tray tables for the time being, until an attendant tells you it's safe to bring them down. Beautiful skies and conditions are anticipated for the duration of the trip, so please sit back, relax and enjoy your flight!"_

And without any warning, Bella was jerked back in her seat as the plane began to speed up, the roar of the jet engines loud in her ears. The ground beneath them shrunk so small it looked like a painting, before it began to mist over, and then disappeared entirely into a cloud.

**A/N: The next chapter switches gears, and we get to see some of Carlisle and Esme. **

**Don't forget to review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- _July 5, 2000_

Carlisle Cullen peered over the top of his newspaper at the sound of breakfast time bickering. It had been eight weeks since he and his wife, Esme, had been blessed with two more children to add to their family, and what a long eight weeks it had been.

Jasper scowled as his older sister, Rosalie, snatched the last piece of toast from the communal plate, waving it at him in a triumphant display. The young boy crossed his arms and glared at her, and Carlisle was sure he would anger.

"Carlisle, she stole my toast!" he whined, outraged, as Rosalie took a big bite. "I only got _one!" _Rose refused to look her foster father in the eye as Jasper glared at her, and Edward's wide eyes moved between them like an observer at a tennis match.

The changes had been rough on Edward as well, as he'd been forced to adjust to having two new, older children living in the house.

_Children with issues,_ Carlisle thought.

"Esme will have more for you," said Carlisle, watching Jasper closely. The child had a temper like Satan's, and Carlisle knew it didn't take much for his sister to set him off.

"But I'm hungry _now!"_ he said, his voice escalating. He saw Jasper's face screw up as he fought to keep his temper in check, as his therapist had taught him, and he wondered how long he would last this time.

His record was twenty minutes.

"I got the tooaassst…" goaded Rosalie in a sing-song voice, and her brother's face reddened.

"Rose," warned Carlisle sharply, his eyes snapping to hers. The cool blue irises watched him with mild interest as she grinned, not at all intimidated by the threat in his voice.

Rosalie loved to push buttons.

Jasper let out a loud cry of rage, and flung a particularly greasy piece of bacon at his sister's face.

And then it all went to hell.

Edward slunk away from the table, grabbing his last bite of breakfast and stuffing it in his mouth as he ran to his mother in the kitchen, who could no doubt hear the escalating argument.

"I _hate you!"_ Jasper roared in fury, flinging himself across the table at his sister. Rosalie leapt back from her seat, her face screwed up in anger as she reached for him, no doubt to inflict some kind of physical injury.

Carlisle shook his head and stepped between them, taking Jasper by the hand and pulling him away. He saw, with great sadness, the fear in both children's eyes as he spoke, and he knew they feared he'd try to spank them.

He and Esme _never_ struck their children.

"Jasper, go to the living room and wait for me there," he ordered in a stern voice. "Rosalie, sit."

Jasper didn't need telling twice. As fast as his anger had risen, it dropped away again, and the small boy scampered into the sitting room without a word.

"You can_not_ goad your brother like that, Rosalie," said Carlisle sternly, once Jasper was out of earshot. "You hear me?"

Rosalie stared at the floor, saying nothing.

"You know he gets angry," he said, repeating the same words for what felt like the millionth time since the two had arrived. The first two weeks had gone by without so much as a "how do you do" from either of them, but after a period of adjustment (and, Carlisle suspected, them having seen Edward put in time-out rather than spanked), the two had grown more comfortable in their new home.

And hence, the arguments.

Rosalie hitched her shoulder up to her ear as Carlisle spoke to her, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"I want you to go apologize to your brother," he said sternly. "You should be kind to him."

"He threw food at me!" she cried, indignant as she glared up at him.

"And he'll be spoken to as well," said Carlisle easily. "Go on now."

"No."

"Go apologize to your brother, or you can spend some time alone in your room, thinking it over," said Carlisle simply.

Rosalie stomped her foot and tossed herself down at the dining table, refusing to speak or look up at him. Carlisle waited a few, tense moments before he sighed and took his leave, letting Rosalie mull over her options while he spoke with Jasper.

He found the boy sitting stiffly on the sofa, watching Carlisle's every move from the moment he was within Jasper's line of sight.

"You gonna spank me now?" he asked, sounding peeved. Esme, unbeknownst to Jasper, was peeking in from the kitchen, and Carlisle saw the immense sorrow on her face at the question.

"No," said Carlisle patiently, sitting next to him. "I do want you to apologize to your sister, though."

"She stole my toast," said Jasper mutinously, and Carlisle saw him getting worked up again. "It was _mine."_

"It was on the plate," corrected Carlisle gently. "She had just as much right to it as you did."

"I wanted it," he said angrily. "I—"

"I know you did," said Carlisle gently, "but it would have been a better choice to go and ask Esme if she could make you another. You can't blow up at your sister every time she does something you don't like."

Jasper glanced up at him, and Carlisle saw that the gentle, sensitive boy had returned from behind the mask of anger.

"Go and say sorry to your sister," urged Carlisle. Jasper watched him with wary eyes.

"Then what?" he asked lowly.

"Then you can go and watch television or play with some toys," he said. "Maybe you and Edward could go outside and play ball?" He watched Jasper's face go from suspicious to incredulous, and he stood warily on both feet, taking a tentative step towards the dining room, where his sister was seated.

"Okay…" Jasper ran on swift feet to the dining room, and Carlisle heard his quiet apology.

"Sorry for getting mad and throwing bacon at you," he said dutifully, and in his mind's eye, Carlisle saw Jasper rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, as he always seemed to do when he was anxious.

"Yeah, sorry too," said Rosalie grudgingly.

It was hardly a good apology, but it was as thorough as anyone could have hoped for from the tenacious girl. It was good enough for Carlisle.

Edward sidled into the room.

"Are they still fighting, dad?" he asked in his high, fluting voice.

"No, I don't think so," said Carlisle gently, smiling as Edward crawled up onto the sofa beside him.

"Oh good," said Edward cheerfully. "Last time Jasper threw a glass and I almost got cut."

Carlisle grimaced at the memory of last Monday's dinner debacle.

"Jasper and Rosalie aren't used to living in a place like ours," he reminded his young son. "Their mom and dad weren't always kind to them."

"Jasper says his mom used to spank them," said Edward, matter-of-factly. "And his dad used to call Rosalie names."

Carlisle just nodded, wondering how much information he could reasonably give to his perceptive, sensitive seven-year-old.

"Sometimes, parents aren't as nice as they should be," he said wisely. "That's why the kids come to stay with families like ours."

"Like Elizabeth," said Edward knowledgably, and Carlisle stared down at him.

His biological mother, Elizabeth Masen, had been one of those unfit parents whose actions had resulted in her son being taken by social services.

"Yes, like Elizabeth," said Carlisle, pressing a kiss to the ruddy hair. Edward grinned up at him.

"But you and mom are my mom and dad now," he said easily, "so it all turned out okay. Are you and mom Rosalie and Jasper's mom and dad now too?" he asked

"I don't know, Ed," said Carlisle softly. "We'll wait and see."

"Are you going to send them back?" he asked, worried.

Edward had taken a liking to Jasper, who, despite his violent temper, seemed very kind and gentle towards Edward.

"No," said Carlisle confidently, "but sometimes, social services decides to move kids around."

"Will they move me around?" he asked nervously.

"No," said Carlisle patiently. "Mom and I adopted you, remember? That means you're ours for good."

Edward just smiled, having known these facts already, but enjoying hearing his father say the words out loud to him.

Edward leaned up and kissed Carlisle's cheek before he left the couch with a signature crooked grin, darting off to find Jasper.

Carlisle felt his wife's hands on his shoulders, and he smiled up at her.

"He's doing better," she noted, pride echoing in every word. "At least it was only bacon today."

"Yeah," said Carlisle with a sigh, leaning up to kiss her chin. "He still thought I'd spank him, though."

"He's learning," said Esme. "Soon enough, he'll know that we won't lay a hand on him."

"Do you think they're going to be here long enough for that?" asked Carlisle softly, lowering his voice to make sure that none of the kids could hear him.

When they'd discovered Esme's inability to have children on her own, they'd signed up as foster parents to fill the void. Before Edward had came to them, they'd played host to two teenage boys, both of whom had lived with them for only a few short months before they were relocated to other homes in Seattle.

Edward had been with them for a whole year before they began the adoption proceedings, which had taken another year and a half, due to his biological mother's unwillingness to sign over her rights. His father had signed quick enough, but Elizabeth Masen had not wanted to give up her claim to the source of her food stamps.

Carlisle was sickened by her.

"I hope so," said Esme gently. "I don't see where else they'd go. They're adjusting well enough, and we've got them both in therapy, and it's not as if their parents can just come waltzing back looking for them. Their mother's in for the next five years, at least, and who knows how long their bastard of a father."

Esme's voice had risen in anger, and Carlisle shushed her gently.

"I know, but they might have family," said Carlisle softly.

"They're not going anywhere," said Esme firmly. "If I have to fight every lawyer in the state, you can be damned sure that I will."

Esme had grown fiercely attached to both children from the day they'd been brought over by their caseworker. It was one of the reasons why Carlisle had fallen for her back in Florida—there was almost no one that Esme couldn't love.

The loud jangle of the telephone interrupted their conversation, and Esme pulled away to pick it up.

"Hello?"

The conversation between Esme and the mystery caller on the other end was a short one, and Carlisle was unnerved to see his wife losing colour throughout the entire conversation. By the end, her voice was shaky, and when she hung up, she was very quiet.

"What's wrong?" he asked at once, standing up to approach her.

"We're having a visit from the social welfare office later today," she said softly. "Carlisle you don't think…"

Carlisle knew _exactly_ what she was thinking, and he frowned. _Speak of the devil._ He couldn't see why Jasper and Rosalie would be taken from them, but he couldn't be sure…

"What did they say?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Esme, sounding frightened. Carlisle knew how much it had hurt her to watch the two teenage boys they'd fostered leave their home, even if they had never shown Esme the love she'd shown them. Those boys had been old enough to know their own minds, to stay on their own, if they should so choose. They hadn't been in true need of a mother's coddling.

Jasper and Rosalie were just young children, and Carlisle knew that if they were taken, it would break his wife's heart.

"Did they say what time they'd be here?"

"This afternoon," she said. "It wasn't Emile, either." Emile Rodriquez was Jasper and Rosalie's caseworker, who had been with them since the moment their plane had landed in Seattle. Their parents, originally from Dallas, had been arrested at their Texas home and brought to Washington state to face trial. The children's mother, Lillian, had insisted that Jasper and Rosalie be transferred to another home in Washington, so as to keep them close.

The two hadn't seen either parent in the eight weeks that they'd been with Carlisle and Esme, nor had they seen them when they spent time in a Seattle group home, before they'd come to Forks.

"I'm sure it's nothing," said Carlisle soothingly. "Probably just a house call, you know, to see how they're doing."

"Yeah," said Esme softly, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. "Maybe."

_It was going to be a very long day._

ooOoo

By 1:30 in the afternoon, Esme had cleaned, dusted, wiped and polished every possible surface of the house. She'd dressed the children in their good clothes, forbidden them to play outside, and insisted that Rosalie and Jasper do their best to get along for the rest of the day. She had been unable to tell the pair that social services might be coming to take them back, but Carlisle knew that Rosalie was suspicious.

"Are you giving us back?" she asked Carlisle, her pretty blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. At her words, Jasper's head whipped around as well, and Carlisle was dismayed to see the abject terror etched on his face.

"No," said Carlisle firmly. "Social services called this morning, and they're coming by for a visit sometime this afternoon."

"I'm sorry I was bad," said Rosalie quickly, tilting her head back to look Carlisle full in the face. "I won't bug Jasper anymore. I'm sorry—"

"We're not giving you back to social services," repeated Carlisle, wishing with all his might that his words could soothe her fears.

He knew that until the nature of the visit was revealed, no one would rest easy.

"Is it Emile?" she asked quietly, watching him with that intense, unwavering gaze.

"I don't think so, sweetheart," he said softly. "Esme said it was a lady on the phone. You go and play with your brothers, and don't worry too much about it. We'll call you when they get here."

Rosalie looked as if she would argue, but the threat of being returned to the social worker made her rethink. She turned around and her mouth snapped shut, taking Jasper by the hand and leading her gaping brother from the room and up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Carlisle ran a frustrated hand through his hair and sighed, sitting on the edge of the sofa. He hated worrying the children, but he knew it was important for them to know the truth of what was going on. Rosalie, the oldest at ten years old, was sure to catch on to any questionable behaviour or suspicious activity.

She saw too much for her own good.

Once she and Jasper were up the stairs, Edward jumped to his feet and followed suit, always eager to be included. Esme smiled fondly after them before she turned to Carlisle with a sigh, seating herself next to him.

"I hate this waiting," she said softly, looking up at him with her wide, dark blue eyes. "I wish they'd have told me what was going on."

"They'll be here soon," Carlisle soothed gently, running a hand down her soft hair. Even after so many years of marriage, Esme was still as beautiful to him as she had been on their wedding day.

She would always be beautiful.

"Do you think—" Esme's sentence was cut off by the distinctive sound of a vehicle driving down their driveway. Both she and Carlisle whipped their heads around to see a black, indistinct car moving slowly towards their house, emerging from the trees and parking right outside the door.

Esme breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself.

"You get the door, I'll get the kids," she said to him, kissing his cheek. Carlisle watched as she walked to the stairs, her shoes clicking on each step as she moved.

The knock came soon after.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Cullen," said a chipper, bright-eyed woman. She was red haired and very young, wearing a dark, knee-length skirt and a flower-printed blouse. Her horn-rimmed glasses and high, flouncing ponytail only made her look younger, despite her professional persona and briefcase.

"Good afternoon…" said Carlisle, trailing off when he remembered she had not introduced herself.

"Beatrice," she piped easily. "I'm from the social services office in Seattle. May I come in?"

"Of course," said Carlisle, stepping aside to let her through. He saw Esme from the corner of his eye, looking very nervous.

"Mrs. Cullen, I presume?" asked Beatrice cheerfully, catching sight of her as she stepped into full view. Esme nodded graciously and plastered a false smile on her face, looking every bit the part of at ease and confident.

Carlisle knew better.

"Come on inside and sit down," said Esme. "We can talk in here."

"Perfect," said Beatrice, slipping off her shoes. Carlisle watched the woman warily as she moved into his home, stopping short when she saw all three children assembled on a sofa. She smiled at them and glanced back at Esme, questioning.

"It would be best if we spoke alone," she said pointedly, and loudly enough for all three kids to hear. Rosalie's head snapped up to her, and she glowered.

"We're not babies, you know," she said. "We know why you're here."

"Why am I here?" asked Beatrice, challenging Rose with a gentle smile. Rosalie flushed pink and ignored her brother's warning hand on her arm.

"You're gonna send us back," said Rose angrily, "and we won't go."

Esme pursed her lips and watched the new social worker.

"I'm sorry?" said Beatrice, sounding truly confused. Rose scoffed and sat back in her seat.

"Where's Emile?" she demanded. "He'll tell you—"

"Sweetheart, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about—"

"You _do,"_ said Rosalie vehemently.

"Rosalie, sit and be quiet," said Esme softly. "Let her speak and explain why she's here before we make assumptions."

"Carlisle didn't spank us," said Jasper suddenly, his intense gaze poring over this new woman.

"Excuse me?" she asked, looking to Carlisle with a wary gaze.

"We were bein' bad this morning, and he didn't even spank us," said Jasper eagerly. "They took us from Mama because she spanked, but Carlisle didn't, I swear it."

"I'm sure I don't know anything about that," said Beatrice, sounding rather uncomfortable. "I'm here to discuss a private matter with your parents."

"You're not taking us?" asked Jasper.

"No," said Beatrice. "That's not why I'm here. I'm not your caseworker."

Jasper looked torn between suspicion and elation.

Rose, on the other hand, beamed.

"Great," she said, hopping up off of the couch. "Can we play outside, Esme?"

"Sure," said Esme, sounding just as relieved as Rose was. "Stay in the yard, and don't go into the trees."

None of the children spoke a word in reply, even Edward, who was taken by the hand and pulled to the door by Rosalie.

Carlisle's wife might have been relieved by this news, but Carlisle remained wary. Why was she here, if not to discuss the business of Jasper and Rose?

"Jasper and Rosalie?" guessed Beatrice softly, eying both blonde children through the front window. Esme smiled and nodded gently.

"They're doing much better," she gushed. "Jasper's learning to control his temper."

"That's wonderful," said Beatrice gently. "Now, I'm here today on some rather serious business. I wonder if I might ask you a few questions?"

"Of course," said Carlisle easily, sitting next to his wife, "but I'd like to know what this is about."

"All in due time, Doctor Cullen," said Beatrice, smiling maddeningly.

Carlisle sat in stubborn, stony silence, even when Esme kicked him, her eyes full of warning.

"What would you like to know?" she asked graciously, and Carlisle knew he'd get an earful for being rude later on.

"Where do you see yourselves in five years?" asked Beatrice, pulling out some folders from her briefcase.

"Raising our family," said Esme valiantly, glancing at Carlisle for confirmation.

"I'm head of surgery at the hospital, Esme's got some interior design projects on the go, so we're all settled financially. The schools are good and all of the kids like it here—"

"Kids?" asked Beatrice softly. "So you include the two fosters as part of your family, then?"

"Of course we do," said Esme crossly. "Who else have they got?"

Beatrice just smiled.

"Do you plan on staying in this house?" she asked.

"Yes."

"How many bedrooms have you got here?"

Esme looked rather confused, but answered nonetheless.

"We've got two on the main floor, five on the second and two up on the third floor," said Esme easily. "The ones down here are being used as a guest room and a music room, and Jasper, Rosalie, Carlisle and I are on the second. Edward likes the view from the top floor, so we've put him up there."

"Excellent," said Beatrice. "And I'll have to ask about your incomes, as well."

"What is this about?" Carlisle asked, his impatience finally getting the better of him. "We've been through all of this with your office. Why all the rehashing now?"

"Just some follow-up," said Beatrice softly. "Do you mind confirming these numbers for me?"

If she wasn't so sweet, Carlisle might have been tempted to ask her to leave.

_But the kids would definitely go then, and Esme would never forgive him._

The numbers were all the same, as they had been eight weeks prior, when Rosalie and Jasper had come to them.

"Now," said Beatrice, stowing her folders away. "I have a much more serious question to ask you."

"Yes?" asked Carlisle, his wife's hand tightening around his.

"How large of a family are you looking to have?" she asked, smiling. "Are you content with the three you've got with you now, or would you be open to adding a few more?"

"A few?" asked Esme, perking up quickly. "How many more?"

"Two," admitted Beatrice. "Siblings."

_Two more children, _Carlisle thought, slightly nervous. He and Esme did well enough financially, and they certainly had the room, but would they be able to handle two more children?

"Where are they from?" asked Carlisle, speaking before Esme had the chance.

"Seattle," she said. "They're recently orphaned."

"Oh poor babies," said Esme sadly, looking intently at Carlisle. "How old are they?"

"Nine and ten," said Beatrice softly. "Their parents were killed in a car accident just four days ago."

"Where have they been since then?" asked Carlisle warily, hoping she didn't mention group homes.

All three of his current children had been housed there for a time, and none of them had happy stories.

"They've been at a summer camp," said Beatrice softly. "They were just told today."

"Poor babies," repeated Esme, sounding very morose. "Carlisle…"

He glanced down at his wife and knew as soon as he did that her mind was made up.

She wanted them.

"Can you give us a minute?" he said, not taking his eyes from Esme. Beatrice stood and nodded, watching them with hopeful eyes.

"I'll just go speak with the kids outside, if you don't mind?" she asked. "Find out how they're doing."

"Of course," he said, dismissing her.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Esme pounced.

"Oh Carlisle," she said, her voice full of sadness, and strangely, hope.

"Can we handle two more?" said Carlisle softly, pressing a kiss to her brow.

"How can we _not_ take them?" she asked. "They've got no one."

"Plenty of kids have no one," Carlisle reminded her sadly. "They'll find someplace to go."

"But these ones were brought to _us,"_ she said gently. "I don't think we're meant to turn them away."

"_Meant_ to?" Carlisle asked, amused. "You haven't gone philosophical on me, have you?"

"Oh stop it," she scolded, swatting him away. "I'm being serious."

He just chuckled.

"It'll be hard," he warned, "and you're the one who works from home. Do you want two more to put up with?"

"I don't _put up _with anyone," said Esme, frowning. "I _enjoy_ them."

"Even when they're having tantrums?" he asked seriously.

"_Especially_ then," she said. "It means they're growing more comfortable."

"These ones will be grieving," said Carlisle softly. "They won't be like Ed, or Jasper and Rose."

"What do you mean?" said Esme.

"I mean that they won't just let you take their mother's place," he said gently. "Jasper, Rosalie and Edward never really saw any love from their parents. These ones probably have. They might not like us trying to replace them."

"Oh, Carlisle," said Esme sadly. "That's _why_ they need someone to love them. We've _got_ to take them."

"Are you sure?" he asked, making sure to look her full in the face. Esme was an abysmal liar.

"Positive," she said somberly, no hint of deception in her face. "Are _you_ sure?"

"Not at all," he laughed, "but when am I ever?"

Esme chuckled.

"Call her back in," said Carlisle, "and give her the good news."

"Shouldn't we ask the kids first?" said Esme quickly, glancing out to where Edward was chatting the social worker's ear off.

"Edward will be thrilled," said Carlisle easily.

"What about Jasper and Rosalie?" she asked.

"They'll get used to it," said Carlisle gently. "It's not up to them."

"No, but it affects them," she said softly. "They might not be happy with more kids."

"They're around the same age," said Carlisle easily. "I'm sure they'll get along fine."

Esme just smiled at him, pecked his cheek, and went to call Beatrice back inside.

ooOoo

_July 7, 2000_

It was two days later, when Carlisle was in his study, that he heard the beginnings of commotion from downstairs.

"They're here!" he heard Edward cry. "Mom, I see them!"

"Edward, hush," said Esme firmly. His son's cries died down as his wife's picked up.

"Carlisle, come down here!"

He closed his book on his desk and rose, stretching his back before he moved to the door. He found his family congregated in the sitting room, Rosalie and Jasper silent as stones on the sofa across from Esme, while Edward danced at the window impatiently.

"Sit down and don't be a bother," warned Carlisle. "They probably won't want to play with you."

"Why not?" he demanded angrily. "Jasper does!"

"They're sad," Carlisle reminded him. "They just lost their parents. Go and sit with your mother."

Esme took her bouncing son by the hand and drew him close, pressing a kiss to his tousled, ruddy hair.

"Be a good boy," she murmured gently.

Edward sighed, frustrated.

Carlisle watched at the window as the black car from two days previous pulled into the same parking spot it had chosen last time. This time, Beatrice emerged with two smaller forms in the back seat, both looking at the ground.

Both children had dark hair and brown eyes, Carlisle noticed, but that was where the similarities ended. The boy, who Carlisle knew was called Emmett, hulked over his smaller sister, his dark hair long and curling around his ears. Alice, the girl, was straight-haired and very small next to both Beatrice and her brother.

When the knock sounded, he opened the door promptly, and donned his kindest smile.

"Hello Beatrice," he said, glancing past her at the two downcast figures behind her.

_Emmett would be a big man,_ Carlisle noted, taking in the boy's bulk.

"Hello Doctor Cullen," she chirped easily. "These are Emmett and Alice. They'll be the ones staying with you."

"Welcome," said Carlisle easily, reaching to take the two bags from the kids. Alice relinquished hers without so much as a glance, but Emmett looked him full in the face.

_With eyes full of suspicion and grief._

"Come on into the sitting room," he offered gently, "and meet everyone else."

Beatrice led the way, leaving Carlisle with his two new charges in the entrance.

"You can call me Carlisle," he told them gently. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Little Alice's breath hitched, and Carlisle felt a pang of sympathy for them. Emmett put his arm around her and drew her close. Both children passed him when Beatrice put out her hand to hold Alice's, and she drew them past him, into the sitting room.

When he reached them, he found all three of his children staring raptly at the newcomers, while Esme was holding Alice in a gentle hug. Emmett looked distinctly awkward when Esme relinquished his sister and pulled him in, but Carlisle was pleased to see that he returned the hug without much protest.

"I'll stay for a little while and help you get settled," said Beatrice gently, glancing between both sets of brown eyes. Both newcomers said nothing as they glanced first at each other, then back at Carlisle.

"You can have a seat wherever you'd like," he said softly, "or perhaps one of the others could show you where they keep their toys?"

"I've got toys right here!" chirped Edward, his green eyes overflowing with excitement. "Come on! I'll show you!"

He leapt up from the sofa and took Alice's hand, pulling her forward. He glanced at Emmett, looking ready to do the same, before he backtracked, sensing that Emmett did _not _want to play.

As Alice went to the storage bin filled with some of the kids' toys, Emmett perched himself in an armchair, and continued to examine the floor.

Esme watched him with sad eyes as Jasper and Rosalie rose carefully from their seats, eyes glued on the new boy.

"Go on and play," she encouraged them, brushing them away. Alice, unlike her brother, made an effort to smile at Edward when he handed her a toy car, talking incessantly.

"…and my car mat," he was saying. "Maybe mom will let me bring it down after supper, but she won't now, because that makes a mess and someone might trip. Do you have cars too, Alice? Or maybe not. Boys have cars. But you're a girl…"

And so forth.

"Emmett?" said Esme, testing the name on her lips. The boy's head snapped up as he watched her, wary.

"Would you like to see your room?" she asked softly. "Maybe go and settle in?"

Emmett said nothing, but his answering nod was clear enough. Carlisle knew he was overwhelmed, and he thought that the respite might help him.

"What a good idea!" said Beatrice, chipper as always. "How about I come too?"

Emmett shrugged and followed Esme to the staircase, travelling quickly upwards to the second floor. Alice wheeled around as he went, looking alarmed, but quickly reverted to the toys when she caught Carlisle watching her.

"You're welcome to go along," he said softly to her. "Your room is up there too."

Edward pouted when Alice put down the car and stood up, looking at the stairs in contemplation.

"I'll show you, if you want," said Rosalie softly, offering Alice a hand as she smiled. Carlisle was pleasantly surprised at Rose's good attitude towards the newcomers, as she had been very reserved about the whole thing when he and Esme had told the children of Alice and Emmett's impending arrival.

Carlisle was even more pleased when Alice took the hand and shot Edward a sad smile, letting Rosalie lead her upstairs. Edward watched with a very intense frown, ignoring Jasper's attempts to reengage him. He picked up Alice's discarded car and began to wheel it lazily towards the smaller boy. Jasper huffed when Edward scowled.

"Oh come on," said Jasper crossly. "She'll be back." Edward shot him a very surly look and snatched Alice's toy back, turning away from his foster brother.

"Whatever," grumbled Jasper discontentedly, standing up and walking towards Carlisle. Carlisle felt the cushion next to him sink down as Jasper sat, glancing up at him.

"I think she's sad," he declared softly, looking troubled.

"She _is_ sad," said Carlisle. "She just lost her parents. She's going to be sad for a while."

"Forever?" asked Jasper, concerned.

"No, not forever," said Carlisle.

"Is she going to stay here too?" he asked. "Like me and Rose?"

"That's the plan," said Carlisle gently, reaching out to put an arm around Jasper. Carlisle felt him stiffen slightly before he relaxed again, looking up at him.

"Do you think they'll come and take them back?" he asked, his voice soft and quiet.

Edward perked up.

Carlisle disliked Jasper's fixation on being "taken back", and he told him so.

"Don't worry about that," he scolded gently. "You, Rose, Alice and Emmett have nothing to worry about. We aren't planning on sending anyone back."

Jasper looked unconvinced.

"What if you have a real kid?" asked Jasper. "Then you won't need fake ones."

"You're not fake," said Carlisle sternly. "You're just as real as any other kid. We're a family, Jasper."

The boy looked startled, and Carlisle laughed.

_If only he could convince him._

**A/N: Please leave some feedback. I was looking up the story stats for the last chapter, and it had over 230 visitors. Yet I've received fewer than 20 reviews. It's disheartening when no one lets you know what they think.**

**I value your opinions. Please share them.**

**Also... I plan on going back through Dark Waltz and correcting any small details that might clash with what's happening in this story (for example, I realized that in DW I stated that Jasper and Rose were with Carlisle and Esme for four months before Emmett and Alice arrived, but for the sake of this story, it was changed to eight weeks). Nothing will change the plot, but if you're interested, there will be a few tweaks to the original.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: A few people commented on Emmett and Alice's lack of inquiry about Bella. Well, I had a little laugh (as this chapter had already been completed), and then decided to post this.**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

Chapter 5- _July 8, 2000_

Carlisle knew that Alice had something to say.

Yesterday, when Beatrice the social worker had left the pair alone with the family, Alice had cried. When Emmett had whispered a word to her, she had perked up and looked longingly at Carlisle. She had opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it, and hadn't spoken a word to anyone other than her brother since.

The furtive glances, pursing of lips and attempted mustering of courage were beginning to frustrate him, and he wished she'd come out and say whatever it was she had to say.

She was bothered enough without having to fear speaking to him.

At breakfast, her bright, brown eyes had watched him raptly. She watched him while he loaded the dishwasher, and she'd even peeked in on him in his study, startling him from a medical journal that had him particularly engaged.

"_Are you all right, Alice?" _he'd asked her, heart full of concern as he watched her eyes widen from where they peeked.

She had just nodded, opened her mouth again, and scampered away, rushing down the stairs faster than Carlisle could catch her.

_What was bothering her?_

Now, at the dining table, he watched as Esme tried to engage her in conversation.

"Do you like chicken?" she asked gently, laying a hand on the girl's shoulder.

She received a nod.

"How about broccoli? Sprouts?"

"…sometimes." It was the most he'd heard Alice say to his wife since her arrival yesterday.

"Alright," said Esme agreeably, glancing up to Carlisle where he sat, pretending to read the paper.

"Emmett doesn't like sprouts," said the girl in a high, gentle voice that suited her well.

"That's good to know," said Esme gently, pressing a hand to her shoulder. "Are you sure you want to sit here? Wouldn't you rather play with the others?"

"No thank you," she said quickly, shaking her head. Carlisle saw her eyes fill with tears once more, and he wondered what would set her off this time.

Emmett hadn't shed a tear in Carlisle's presence, but it seemed that every second word from _anyone _turned Alice into a crying mess.

"Do you like cooking?" asked Esme quickly, trying to distract Alice.

"Mom used to cook with us," she said, swallowing thickly.

And she began to cry again, excusing herself from the table, no doubt to find her brother.

"Poor baby," said Esme softly once she was out of earshot. "Carlisle, what do we do?"

"She's grieving, Esme," he said gently. "It's a lot for a kid to handle."

"I hate seeing her cry," she admitted. "And Emmett. He hasn't even frowned! Is that normal?"

"I think he's just private," Carlisle said. "They've only been here for a day, love."

Esme sighed heavily and returned to her cookbook, using Post-It notes to flag recipes that might be child-friendly. Carlisle's eyes slid over the sports section of the paper, though he absorbed very little as he read.

"Has Alice said anything to you?" he asked suddenly, putting his paper down.

"No," said Esme, startled. "Should she have?"

"I don't know," he admitted quietly, frustrated. "She's been watching me."

"What do you mean?" asked Esme, her face betraying her wariness. "Watching you do what?"

"That's just it," said Carlisle, being sure to keep his voice down. "Nothing. She watched me eat breakfast this morning, then load the dishwasher, and she scared the shit out of me in my study. She was just peeking at me around the corner. She looks like she's got something to say."

"Maybe she just wants to talk to you," she suggested softly. "Ask her."

"She cries every time I try," he said. Carlisle couldn't explain the girl's bizarre reaction, and he could only chalk it up to her being upset over her family.

"Well, then give her some time," suggested Esme gently. "Let her come to you."

Carlisle wondered how long that would take.

"I'm sure if it's important, she'll say something," said his wife in a decisive, final voice. Carlisle grunted and returned to his paper.

"I think I'm going to barbeque tonight," she said, smiling as she closed the book one final time. "Steaks and chicken, maybe…"

Carlisle watched her go with a gentle smile, and jumped in shock when he saw Alice entering from where she had left.

Her eyes were red and moist, but she stood her ground as she approached him.

"Are you okay, honey?" Carlisle asked her softly. She, as usual, said nothing as she moved closer and perched herself in the seat across from him. She sniffled loudly and opened her mouth to speak, looking petrified.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, trying his best to look non-threatening. Alice closed her mouth and looked at the floor, swallowing.

"You have no reason to be," continued Carlisle, speaking nothing but truth.

"I just…" Alice trailed off, looking lost for words.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked. "Did one of the kids say something?"

"No," said Alice quickly, shaking her head. "It's not…"

"Come sit closer," suggested Carlisle gently, patting the chair next to his. "I know you're sad, but you can tell Esme and I anything that's on your mind."

Alice blushed, but moved to the seat he'd indicated anyways. Carlisle felt a strong urge to wrap his arms around the small, sad little girl, but forced himself to remain still, lest he make her more uncomfortable.

She didn't speak, and Carlisle grew more and more anxious.

"Honey, what's the matter?" he asked. "Are you feeling sad again?"

Alice hesitated, drawing her shoulder up nervously.

"You're allowed to be sad," he told her gently. Her face turned up sharply at his words, and he was dismayed to see her tears again.

"I know," she said in her soft, high voice. "I just…"

"What?"

Alice heaved a great sigh and slid herself from the chair, looking forlorn.

"Nothing."

"No, not nothing," he insisted quickly, reaching towards her. "What's going on?"

Alice just frowned longingly at him and scampered away, turning towards the staircase.

_Goddamn it,_ Carlisle thought. _What's wrong with her?_

_Her parents have just died, she's grieving, she's in a new environment, and she seems shy—all of which are very good reasons to keep to herself and feel insecure_, he told himself.

"Dad!" Edward bounded headlong into the room, eyes shining and smile gleaming. "Guess what?"

"What?" asked Carlisle, breaking from his musings. Edward leapt up onto his lap, digging his bony knee into Carlisle's thigh. He tried to hide his grimace, but Edward saw it anyways.

"Oops, sorry dad," he said, and with a little bounce, he moved his knee from Carlisle's thigh, right to his groin.

Carlisle grunted and quickly snatched the boy up, replacing him gently on his lap.

"What's going on?" he said, his voice only slightly strained

"You gotta work today?" asked Edward eagerly.

"Not today," said Carlisle softly. "I'm off for the week to get Alice and Emmett settled."

"Awesome," said Edward, grinning. "Can we go to the beach?"

"It's raining," Carlisle pointed out, glancing out the kitchen window. "It'll be cold."

"When it stops, then?" asked Edward.

"Not today," said Carlisle, "but maybe we can make some plans. Go ask your mother."

"Yeah!"

And Edward leapt from his lap, his little fist making contact with Carlisle's groin this time when he tried to use it for leverage. With a grunt of pain, Carlisle sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Emmett, having been walking past the dining room, smirked knowingly before he returned to his sullenness, taking a seat on the sofa across from the doorway.

"Emmett, come here," called Carlisle gently, waving him inside. Emmett looked startled, and a bit wary, as he drew himself up and slouched inside, saying nothing.

"Sit," Carlisle invited gently, gesturing to his sister's vacated seat. "I want to ask you something."

Emmett just watched him.

"Is everything alright with your sister?" he asked softly.

"Are you serious?" The bite in the boy's words startled Carlisle, and he looked up with astonishment.

The accusation in his eyes was piercing, and Carlisle backtracked.

"Are we missing something?" he asked quietly. "I know you're grieving, but is there something else going on? You know you can talk to us, right?"

"No," said Emmett, shooting him a mocking, disdainful smile. "Everything's great. Can I go?"

"No, you can't," said Carlisle stubbornly. "What's up with Alice?"

"Our parents are dead," snapped Emmett. "That's what's up with her."

Carlisle sighed, running a hand through his hair. Even as a doctor, he had never had to spend much time with grieving children.

There was usually family or friends there to do that part of the job.

"I'm sorry," said Carlisle softly. "This is new for us, too."

"Oh poor you," mocked Emmett angrily, watching him defiantly. Carlisle saw the familiar challenge in his eyes, as he saw all too often from Jasper and Rosalie.

"I don't like that attitude," warned Carlisle gently. "I don't take it from any of the others, and I won't take it from you."

Emmett just glanced away.

"All Esme and I want is for you and Alice to be happy," said Carlisle softly, resting his hand on Emmett's shoulder. "I know it's hard right now, because the wound is so fresh, but eventually, you'll start to feel better…"

"No we won't," choked Emmett sadly, and Carlisle was dismayed to see tears in _his_ eyes this time. "We won't _ever_ feel better."

"I know it feels that way," said Carlisle, "but—"

"How many people were in the car?" he demanded, suddenly intense. All vulnerability had gone from him—his wavering voice and tears had been replaced with a strong timbre and eyes like stone.

"Three, I think," said Carlisle gently, trying to recall the details of the report he'd read.

"Three," said Emmett, slouching his shoulders again, and Carlisle remembered that as big as he might be, he was just a boy.

"Who else, besides mom and dad?" he asked quietly.

There was an indistinguishable _something_ burning in Emmett that Carlisle could not identify, but it bothered him to see it.

"Your parents and the taxi driver," said Carlisle gently. "They were on their way home from Seattle."

"Oh good."

_That_ had not been the response Carlisle was expecting.

"Why is that good?" he asked sharply, staring.

"Nothing," said Emmett, returning to the sharp attitude he'd sported earlier. "Never mind. Can I go now?"

"I guess so," said Carlisle warily, frowning as Emmett leapt from his seat. "Come and see me if you want to talk, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

And then, he was gone.

_What the hell was that?_

"Let him process, Carlisle," said Esme's soft voice, peeking in from the kitchen. "Don't bombard them with questions. Let them come to you."

"There's something going on," he said stubbornly.

"Maybe so," said Esme, "but let them tell you in their own time. They barely know us."

Carlisle knew she was right, but he was not good at waiting.

Something was definitely up.

ooOoo

Dinner that night was slightly less awkward than the previous night's. Jasper kept his temper, Rosalie remembered to mind her manners, and neither of the newcomers cried.

Though Alice looked very distracted.

"Are you two settling in alright?" asked Esme quietly, breaking the awkward dinnertime silence with a gentle word to Alice and Emmett.

"Yes ma'am," said Alice meekly, returning unenthusiastically to her plate without so much as a glance up. Emmett just grunted and nodded, picking at his chicken breast.

"Well, I hope to have some of your things shipped very soon," continued Esme. "We've arranged to have it packed up and brought over. Won't it be nice to have some of your things back?"

"What kinds of things?" asked Alice curiously.

"Your clothes and toys," said Esme gently. "Maybe a few heirlooms? Is there anything you'd like to have?"

"_Where the Wild Things Are,"_ said Alice quickly, blushing.

Esme just smiled.

"Of course. And what about you, Emmett? Is there anything specific you'd like to have from your old place?"

Emmett stared at her, bewildered.

"What happens to the stuff we don't take?"

"Well," began Esme softly, "if your parents have no other family to claim it, it'll go to the state."

Emmett sighed.

"What about—?"

Alice kicked him under the table, looking frightened.

"Yes?" asked Esme softly, having caught the interaction just as easily as Carlisle had.

"Never mind," said Emmett quietly, taking a large bite of food to avoid answering another question.

"But what about your…" Rosalie had begun to speak, glancing between Emmett and Alice, but upon seeing the glare on Emmett's face, she fell silent.

"Rose?" asked Carlisle sternly, perking up.

What did she know?

"Never mind," she said softly, returning to her plate. Carlisle watched her intently for a moment, but was confused to see that there was no fear on her face. The only explanation was that Emmett had frightened her into silence, yet here she was, looking pitying rather than afraid.

Rose was never quiet.

"No, not 'never mind'," said Carlisle crossly. "What is going on? Why are you keeping secrets?"

"Because I can," snapped Emmett, rounding on him. "I don't have to tell you anything if I don't want to. And neither does Alice. _You're_ not my father."

Alice flushed, and Carlisle pursed his lips.

"Rosalie?" he asked quickly, turning to his foster daughter.

"Um…" she began, looking distinctly awkward. "Nothing."

"Carlisle, drop it," said Esme gently, pressing her hand to his leg in warning. "Don't be pushy."

He took a deep breath and forced a smile, taking a delicate bite of dinner.

"So what else did everyone do today?" he asked, his cheeriness strained and forced.

And then Edward started talking, and no one else could get another word in.

ooOoo

"I don't know," said Emmett, exasperated.

"Well you _must_ know," said Rosalie, displeased. "I mean, come on. She's your _sister."_

"Yeah, well she's littler," said Emmett defensively. "I mean, she's like _this_ high. I don't know what kinds of things she plays with. Or what she was wearing that day."

Carlisle watched the interaction between the two oldest children with mild interest, smiling as he saw Emmett rake his hands through his hair, sneaking furtive glances every few moments at the scowling Rosalie.

Sad or not, he knew Rosalie would still grab his attention.

"Where do you think she'd be?" asked Rose in hushed tones, so that Carlisle was forced to keep still to hear.

"I don't know," said Emmett softly. "I—"

His eyes met Carlisle's and the openness left him, leaving behind a stony silence.

"Good morning," said Carlisle gently, moving into the room now that he had been spotted. "What are you two up to?"

To his surprise, Rosalie flushed and stammered.

"Just… just talking."

"Uh huh," said Carlisle, unappeased. "About what?"

"His sister," said Rosalie easily, still pink. "And where she is."

"She's right upstairs," said Carlisle, frowning, "asleep."

"Yeah," said Rose, glancing away. "Sure."

Carlisle was very confused, and his curiosity was getting the better of him again.

"Am I missing something?" he asked, and just as Emmett opened his mouth, Rosalie barked out a laugh.

"Are you _ever."_

"And what does that mean?" he asked, stopping her. "Is Alice alright?"

"Alice is fine!" shouted Emmett, growing angry. "I'm going out for a walk."

"No, you're not," said Carlisle. "It's raining and you don't have your coat unpacked."

Emmett growled and threw himself back on the sofa, glaring daggers at Rose, who backtracked.

"Rose, go and play with your brother," said Carlisle quickly, dismissing the girl from the sitting room. Rosalie threw Emmett a sympathetic gaze and turned to leave, ignoring Emmett's scowl.

"What's going on?" asked Carlisle, for what felt like the hundredth time. "You've got _nothing_ to fear from me."

"I'm not afraid of _you,"_ scoffed Emmett.

"Well, then what's stopping you?" asked Carlisle, sitting on the sofa next to him. "Is it something private?"

Emmett said nothing.

"I'd like to help, if I can," he said gently, "but I need to know what the problem is."

"You already _know_ what the problem is!" shouted Emmett, wheeling around. "Why'd you leave her behind?"

"What?"

Carlisle saw the anger in Emmett's face and the fear sparkling behind his bravado, but clearest of all was the accusation. Carlisle contemplated his words for a moment, wondering how he could make sense of them, but try as he might, he could make neither head nor tail of it.

"You know _exactly _what I mean!" Emmett's voice was growing louder and louder as his temper overtook him, and his noise drew Esme's attention from the music room. Edward scampered away from the room as well, darting for the steps to find one of the children to play with.

He didn't like conflict.

"Sweetheart…" said Esme softly, cutting in with nervous eyes.

"I'm _not_ your _sweetheart."_

Esme looked crestfallen, and she fell back into an armchair.

Emmett ignored her.

"So there," he said angrily, rounding on Carlisle again. _"That's_ the problem."

"You've explained nothing," said Carlisle calmly, his frustration fizzling at the prospect of learning some answers. "Tell me what the issue is."

Emmett's face reddened, and he glared.

"Em?" Alice's little voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs, where she stood, chewing her bottom lip.

Emmett just stared at her, contemplating.

"You shouldn't yell," she advised quietly. "Mom says don't be rude."

"Yeah, well…" said Emmett, sounding as if he'd like to make a cruel retort, but thought better of it. He turned his attention back to Carlisle, ignoring his sister as she sat down next to him, grabbing his arm and resting her head on it.

"I don't want to talk to you," said Emmett sullenly, turning away. "I want to go home."

"I know you do, sweetheart, and I'm so sorry…" said Esme, trailing off at the look she got in return.

Alice slapped his arm.

"Oh of _course_ you'd be nice," he barked, jerking away from her. "It's like she's not even missing, isn't it? Do you even _care_ where she is?"

Little Alice slapped his face, and he glared down at her.

"You're _awful!"_ she cried. "What's the _matter_ with you?!"

"Who's missing?" asked Carlisle quickly. "What are you talking about?"

Emmett, having been in the middle of his retort to his sister, wheeled around, going very red.

"_BELLA!"_ he shouted, his voice carrying as he jumped up, tears falling gently. "Bella! That's who's missing!"

All Carlisle could do was stare, until his wife spoke up.

"What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

"Bella!" he shouted again, going red in the face. Alice sniffled beside him, refusing to meet Carlisle's gaze as her brother raged. "Bella! She's six and she was with mom and dad and you just _left _her!"

Carlisle feared that Emmett would soon resort to physical violence to get his anger across, so he carefully tried to defuse the situation.

"We know nothing of any Bella," he said, testing the name for the first time. "Who is she?"

"…sister," said Alice quietly, her voice barely cutting through as Emmett snorted with derision.

"Where is she?" demanded Emmett. "Where did you people send her to?"

"Honey, we didn't even know she existed until now," said Esme, doing her best to soothe. "Honestly, we didn't."

"You _did,"_ he growled. "Beatrice said you'd know!"

"Honey, Beatrice told us only of the two of you," said Esme softly. "I don't know anything about this _Bella."_

"You're all _liars!"_ he shouted. "Where'd you send her to?"

"We have no idea where your sister is," said Carlisle gently, his eyes darting straight to Esme's. He saw the sadness swimming behind the cerulean blue gaze as comprehension and realization came to her. He felt his own stomach drop when Emmett caught his eye again, tearful, proud and angry.

_Beyond angry._

"She was with mom and dad," Alice piped quickly. "She was too little for camp. If she wasn't in the car, she must have been with Mrs. Finchley."

"The babysitter," Emmett clarified before Carlisle could ask. "She watched us when mom and dad went out. But Beatrice would've told us if Bella was there..."

"We've heard nothing of any other child," said Esme again, resting her hand gently on Emmett's forearm. "I swear it to you, honey, if we'd have known there were three, we would've taken all of you."

Carlisle saw, with growing dismay, as Emmett went from raging to confused, and finally, _vulnerable._

"Well, if you don't have her, then…" He glanced at Alice, eyes searching and hoping.

"Where is she?"

Alice's words hung heavy in the air.

**A/N: Please leave a review. They're very important to me, and I haven't been getting very many.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- _July 5, 2000_

Bella felt her seat jolt as the wheels made contact with the ground. Liza, having dozed off, jerked awake, glancing anxiously through the window.

"We're here," she grumbled, rubbing her eye. Bella watched with slight amusement as her eyeliner was smudged- she looked like a very familiar raccoon that lived under the porch at her house in the summertime. Over the course of a few years, her daddy had tried and tried to make it leave. He'd trapped it and released it into the woods, he'd chased it out from underneath and boarded up all the holes, and he'd even tried putting up some noise makers that were supposed to frighten him away, but no matter what, Rocky the Raccoon came back every spring. Alice had been afraid of him, as he would tear up the trash and make all kinds of nighttime noise, but Emmett had been determined to convince her father to let him keep Rocky in a cage in his room.

_It's a wild animal, Emmett, _dad would say. _Not your friend._

Maybe Rocky really belonged to Liza, and she wanted to look like him.

"Come on," said Liza quickly, collecting the bags from the overhead compartment. Bella was filled with nervousness again as she stepped away from her seat, disappointed that the plane ride was over. The flight had been an enjoyable one, even if Liza had napped almost the whole time. She had been allowed to colour, and she had been given a juice box and a little bag of pretzels. When the lady in the seat on Liza's other side had asked her where she was travelling, Bella had been eager to share.

"_Visiting family?" the lady asked kindly, smiling around the snoozing Liza. _

"_I'm going to stay with my Aunt Louisa in Phoenix," said Bella._

"_Oh, how nice," said the lady, helping Bella with her juice box. The straws were tricky sometimes. "A summertime visit?"_

"_No," said Bella. "I'll stay there. Liza says so."_

"_Oh." The lady had frowned a bit, and glanced back ahead._

"_I was at Mrs. Finchley's house, but now I'm not, because she's too old to look after a kid. And Liza didn't let me say bye to Nancy, but she's just a cat, so maybe so isn't too sad. Mom and dad had a car crash at the police officer party, and they went to God."_

"_I'm sorry," said the lady, her face turning red as she turned away. "I shouldn't be…"_

"_I hope Emmett and Alice come too," said Bella, growing sad again. She wanted very much for her mom and dad to come back for her, so she could just go and wait for her brother and sister to come home from camp. She suddenly found herself wishing that Liza were awake, or better yet, that she was back at home in her bedroom with her books and stuffies._

"_Well, I'm sure they will," said the red-faced, sad-looking woman. Bella was about to answer again, but she saw that the lady had turned away from her, and was now engrossed in her magazine. They were the same glossy, shiny pages her mommy liked to read._

"Come on, kiddo," said Liza gently, taking Bella's hand as they grabbed their luggage from the belt. Bella tried to grab her own, but Liza nudged her away before she could get herself hurt.

Bella was _not_ a baby, and she didn't like Liza's helping.

"We're going to meet Vincent at his office," said Liza quickly. "He's going to take you to your auntie's place."

"Aren't _you_ going to take me?" she asked, fretting. "Are you going to stay too?"

"No," said Liza. "I've already told you. My job is to bring you to Phoenix. Their job is to bring you to your aunt's. Vincent will be your caseworker here in Arizona."

"But—"

"No buts," said Liza, firmly, but not unkindly. "Grab your knapsack and come along. We don't want to be late."

Bella felt heart sink once more as she took Liza's hand and maneuvered her way through the busy airport until they found the front doors, where a bunch of yellow taxis were waiting. Liza flagged one down and a grumpy old man helped them get the suitcases into the back.

"But I don't have a seat," said Bella softly, tugging Liza's hand. "Daddy says I'm too small for no seat."

"The driver has one," said Liza, pointing to an old, ratty car seat that Bella decided was for babies. It had a dirty cushion on it with teddy bears, and Bella remembered that her brother's old baby seat in the garage had the same print.

She was _not _ a baby, but even as she began to protest, Liza buckled her in and gave the mean-looking driver some quick directions, and they were off.

The car smelled of cigarettes and dirt, and Bella did not like either one invading her senses. The odor crept into her nose and seemed to linger, even when her hand stretched down to the crank, rolling down the window to get some air. This air was dusty, and although it didn't smell as bad as the car, it was very hot, and even the wheezing air conditioner in the car couldn't overpower it.

"Shut that, please," said Liza softly, glancing back at her. Bella frowned and did as she was bid, displeased when the _whooshing_ air stopped and the stagnant, malodourous air took over once more. She tried breathing through her mouth, but even that proved unhelpful, since it just made her breathing noisy and her mouth dry.

"Liza?"

"Yes, Isabella?"

"Who's Vincent?"

"Your new caseworker," she said quickly. "I've already told you."

"Is he nice?"

"I would imagine so," she said. "I've never met him."

"But…"

"No buts," she said again, snapping her purse closed as the man pulled in to a parking lot. Liza fished some bills from her purse and took a receipt from the driver, before she asked Bella to unbuckle her belt.

When Bella had managed to get herself out of the dirty car seat, the heat of the sun was already making its way through the parked, powerless car. She opened the door and was irked to find that it was no cooler outside, and that the heat from the asphalt made it almost _more_ hot than inside the car. Liza stood near the trunk, beside the luggage, and she shook the driver's hand before he took off in his car, leaving the two of them alone.

"Come on, we'll go inside," she said. "It's hot as hell out here."

"That's a bad word," Bella informed her gravely, frowning up at the grown woman. Liza said nothing in return, taking a suitcase in each hand before she walked up to the building they were at, and opened the door.

The rush of cold, treated air felt like heaven to Bella, and she stood for a moment when she reached the vent, where the air blew directly down on her.

Liza didn't complain, and Bella suspected she was enjoying it too.

"Vincent's up on the fourth floor," said Liza, gently coaxing Bella away from the stream of cool air. Bella followed without much complaint, though she wished she could have held hands. Bella didn't like being in this strange place. When the pair reached the elevator, the butterflies in Bella's tummy grew more anxious and restive, and Bella did her best to tamp them down before Liza noticed.

The office in Phoenix reminded Bella very much of Liza's in Seattle, although she noted that there was no Winnie the Pooh on these walls. These ones were just green, with some books and toys and a little play house tucked away in the corner of the waiting room. Bella saw some kids playing, and wondered if Liza would let her play too.

She had been so distracted by the bland green walls and the noisy kids that she hadn't even noticed Liza addressing the secretary. Only the gentle tug on her hand let her know that they were on the move again, and Bella didn't dare ask to join the children in the playhouse.

"Is there a playhouse at aunt Louisa's house?" Bella asked quietly.

"I don't know," said Liza. "You'll have to ask her when you see her."

"Oh."

"Come right in," said a deep, man-voice as they approached an open door. "Liza, I assume?"

"Yes, and this is Isabella," said Liza, nudging Bella forth. The man called Vincent was a tall one, with dark hair, skin and eyes. Having lived in the Pacific northwest, Bella was very pale, but she suspected that Vincent, despite his exposure to the sun, would've been dark there too. He smiled kindly at her with a white flash of teeth, and Bella's butterflies flared up.

"Well, hello there," he said, offering her a hand. "My name is Vincent."

"Oh." Bella's voice came out as a squeak as she reached over and took Liza's sleeve in her hand, willing the woman to stay. She felt Liza pull away and it took all of her self-control to stay in her spot and not follow. She still didn't shake Vincent's hand.

"Sit," said Liza, pointing to a chair in front of Vincent's desk.

"Certainly," said Vincent easily. "Why don't you colour while Liza and I talk?"

"Okay," said Bella, hoping her butterflies wouldn't make her sick. She took out her crayons and colouring book with shaky hands as Liza began to converse with this stranger, speaking in hushed tones so that Bella had a hard time hearing.

"She should be no trouble," said Liza, as Bella began to colour the picture of the bear. "She's been great so far. I don't think she understands what's going on."

"She's just a baby," said Vincent, his voice sounding sad. "She'll understand soon enough."

"Her aunt's place checked out?"

"It's far from ideal," said Vincent. "We'll be checking in often."

"What's she like?"

"She's in shock, I think," said Vincent, and Bella's spying ears strained to hear. "Seemed kind of…"

Vincent's sentence trailed off into indistinguishable murmurs as Bella's crayon slowed, trying to keep the volume down.

Spying was bad, but she _needed_ to know.

"Well then," said Liza finally, and Bella turned to see. She had a big smile on her face as her heels clicked closer and closer, before she knelt before Bella.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asked, her eyes boring into Bella's. Bella felt a rush of cold dread flow through her as she realized that Liza was going to leave.

"Are you going home?" she asked quickly.

"Yes," said Liza, smiling. "Vincent will take good care of you, I promise."

"Are you going to bring Alice and Emmett back on another plane?"

Liza sighed, and her brow furrowed.

"We'll see," she said, hesitant. "Your auntie just wants you for now. Maybe once she…"

"I'd like to go back too," said Bella hopefully, knowing in her heart of hearts that she would not be allowed. "To my house."

"I know, sweetheart, but you live here now," Liza reminded her gently, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. Bella felt the fingers lingering at her cheek as the woman smiled at her, straightening up.

"Call me if you need anything," she said to Vincent. "I'll be in touch. Be a good girl, Isabella."

"Yes ma'am," said Bella quietly, feeling her eyes brighten once more as Liza shook Vincent's hand, smiled one last time and left the room.

It was very quiet for a long moment, and Bella stared at the floor.

_She was _not_ a baby. She would _not_ cry._

"So, are you ready to go?" asked Vincent quietly. "It's a bit of a trip. Your auntie lives in Tucson."

"Oh."

"Do you need to use the restroom?"

"Yes please," she said quietly, sliding off of her chair. She didn't really need to go, but maybe she could wipe her eyes without him seeing. Vincent showed her to the bathroom down the hall, and she quickly locked herself in one of the stalls, grabbing a big wad of toilet paper.

"_Had someone told Alice and Emmett that mom and dad were gone to God?" _she wondered. _"Did they know where she was?"_

_Did they care?_

Bella spent a bit of time in the bathroom, not peeing, but wondering. Wondering where on Earth Auntie Louisa really lived, and why mom never brought her visiting here, and why Liza had said that mom and dad were gone to God, and where Emmett and Alice were and if someone had told them about going to God. She wondered where God was and why her parents had gone there, and whether maybe, _just maybe,_ she might go and get them one day.

Even if Liza said she couldn't.

Bella thought about her stuffies and her books in her bedroom in Seattle, and how she missed it. She missed her house, and her family, and she thought about how much she really_, really _hated this sleepover at Mrs. Finchley's. She wondered if she'd ever see Mrs. Finchley again now that she was far away in Arizona, and whether mom and dad had met Mrs. Finchley's husband at God.

When she thought too hard about the last few days, she felt her eyes water, so she stopped those thoughts before someone came in and caught her. Wiping her eyes, she flushed the toilet and set to washing her hands, to make Vincent think she had really used the bathroom. He didn't seem to know any different when she came out, a brave, fake smile on her face. Her tummy started up again when he offered her a small return smile, but she bravely took his hand and let him carry her heavy suitcase as if it weighed nothing at all.

"We'll grab some paperwork and get right in the car," he said jovially, and Bella had to walk very quickly to keep up with his long strides. The lobby with the green walls and playhouse came quickly, but Bella frowned when she saw the other kids had left.

She would be very bored in there by herself.

Vincent spoke with the secretary, never letting go of Bella's hand, though he did put her suitcase down to grab hold of some papers and forms the secretary handed him. She watched him place them under his arm before he grabbed up her bag again, and they went out into the hallway.

When they reached the hot, dusty parking lot, Bella grew irritable. She didn't like this heat, and she hoped Auntie Louisa had air conditioning. Bella was set up in the back of the red car that Vincent was driving, in a seat very much like the taxi driver's. She hated it almost as much, but said nothing when Vincent left her to buckle up. He slid into the driver's seat and started up the car, handing Bella a little water bottle before he left the lot.

"I'm very sorry about your mom and dad," he said, breaking the silence as they drove down busy streets.

"Oh," said Bella.

"Such a tragedy…"

"Will mom come back?" she asked hopefully, watching Vincent's face in the rear view mirror. When his eyes snapped to hers in the reflective glass, she thought he looked quite peculiar.

"Sweetheart, your mom's gone," he told her gently. "Didn't Liza explain?"

"Mrs. Finchley said they went to God," said Bella softly. "But maybe they'll come back."

"No," said Vincent quietly. "People don't come back from that."

Bella just stared at him. What did he mean, they 'didn't come back'? Surely even if God was far, mom would still come back for her?

She _hoped_ mom would come back. And dad too.

"Why not?" she asked boldly, wishing for answers.

She was very confused.

"Because they passed away, sweetheart," said Vincent delicately. "They're gone."

"Passed away?" she asked, frowning. "What's that mean?"

"They're gone," he repeated.

"To God," said Bella matter-of-factly. "And it's far away."

"Yes," he said slowly. "Do you know what that means?"

"No," she said, shrugging. "Mom said she'd be back at one. It's long past one…"

"Your mom and dad were in an accident," he told her softly. "They were hurt, and they didn't make it."

"Make it where? Home?"

"Honey, your mom and dad are dead," said Vincent finally, watching her closely.

Bella had heard that word before. She had heard it on TV, and on the radio, and even sometimes when dad came home from work. Sometimes someone he had been trying to help was "dead" as well, and it always made dad sad. Bella knew, from TV, that dead was like asleep, only people never woke up from it.

And that thought made her very, very sad.

Vincent offered her a tissue, and no matter how hard she repeated her mantra of _not a baby_ in her head, she couldn't help but cry.

She wanted her mom to wake up and come and get her. She wanted her not to be hurt, and for dad to pick her up and to have another picnic and to go home to her bed and her stuffies and her brother and sister…

"I want to go home," she said in a thin, wavering voice as she sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. The tissue grew wet with tears as she imagined her parents in a dreamless, everlasting sleep.

When she remembered that dead people were buried with gravestones in cemeteries, she cried even harder, because Emmett had told her that that's where the ghosts lived. He had told her that if she didn't hold her breath and lift her feet from the car floor whenever they drove past one, the ghost would come into the car, ride home with them, and haunt her room.

"I'm so sorry, honey," said Vincent again, his dark eyes flickering between the road and her reflection in the mirror. Bella said nothing to him as she turned away, snorting and sniffling unattractively and trying to staunch her tears.

"Once we get to your aunt's you'll feel better," said Vincent. "I think you need a sleep."

"I want to go home," she repeated, and this time, she felt the hollowness of empty words.

ooOoo

The drive was a long, tiresome one for Bella. When she had cried herself out, Vincent offering her tissues all the while, she had nothing to do but think. She didn't want to play with her crayons and colouring book, nor did she want to talk to Vincent, who seemed eager to chat. She wanted to be home with her mom and dad and bed and stuffies and her brother and her sister. She wanted to see Mrs. Finchley and go to the park down the road with her favourite slide and come home just before the streetlights went on, which always meant it was time to come in.

But she knew she could have none of those things, so all she could do was brood. Two hours was a long time for a girl of six to sit and think.

"_How had it all gone so wrong so fast?" _she thought. _"Why had such a terrible thing happened?"_

She thought about asking Vincent, but the words just wouldn't come out right. When she tried to say something to him, her little voice squeaked, and when he looked back at her anxiously, she lost it altogether.

It was easier when it was quiet.

"Your auntie should be happy to see you," Vincent said, after nearly an hour and a half of just radio noise.

Bella didn't answer.

"I'm sure you'll have a nice time," he continued. "She seemed very eager to have you."

"Oh."

Her eyes felt puffy and sore.

"We're nearly there now," he said, still watching in the mirror. "Why don't you try and nap, and I'll wake you when we get there?"

"I'm not tired," said Bella defiantly, though her body betrayed her with a yawn. Vincent said nothing in reply, only sighing, and turned his attention back to the slowing traffic on the road in front of them.

She didn't want to go to sleep.

After the brief, awkward interaction, the drive passed in languid silence until they turned off of the freeway and onto a smaller street, which winded up onto an overpass. Bella glanced out the window to the street below and frowned, unimpressed by the height after her airplane ride.

It was another half hour after that before they finally reached Auntie Louisa's part of Tucson, or so Vincent told her. When they made a left turn onto a street with barking dogs and shabby homes, Vincent glanced back again.

"We're nearly there," he said softly. "You got all your stuff together?"

Bella nodded, as she had never taken any of her things out of her backpack in the first place.

Auntie Louisa's street was two down from that left turn, and Vincent almost missed it. Bella caught a quick glance at the street sign, but it passed by too quickly for her to see the letters and make them out. The houses here didn't look like the houses that she and Mrs. Finchley lived in. Some of these ones had wooden windows that no one could see out of, and some people had bed sheets for curtains. There was a very mean looking dog on the end of his chain in the next door neighbour's yard, and Bella saw a shirtless man on the porch of the house they'd pulled up in front of.

"Is this it?" Bella asked, nervous, as Vincent shut the car down. The man on the porch narrowed his eyes in the direction of the car and swung his beer bottle so suddenly that some of it upended onto his feet.

"For fuck's sake," Bella heard him curse as she stepped out of the car, stretching her legs. Vincent's put his hand out to stop her as she took a step forward, and he called out to the strange man.

"Where's Louisa? She's expecting us."

"I ain't got no clue," the man drawled, his voice sounding very strange. Bella thought he had what mom always called an _accent._

"When will she be back?" asked Vincent suspiciously, glancing around.

The beer-man shrugged and leaned in closer to get a good look at Bella. She shied away as he leered at her, scowling, before he turned back to Vincent.

"Ain't got no time for kids, she says," said the stranger. "Took off this morning with another man, that lying bitch."

"Are you expecting her back soon?" Vincent asked impatiently, taking Bella's hand. "I don't have all day for chit chat."

"If that bitch comes back here," the man snarled, jumping down the stairs two at a time until he was very, very close, "I'll knock her fucking teeth out. That soon enough for you? Eh?"

Bella pressed herself into Vincent's side, glad that he was so big and strong.

This man couldn't knock _his_ teeth out.

"Get in the car, sweetheart," said Vincent shortly, opening the back seat. The stranger's eyes popped right out at those words, and Bella scrambled to obey.

"Now see here, you dirty fucker," said the strange man suddenly, stepping even closer. "You come on here to _my_ porch, talking about _my _girlfriend, and you're judging _me?!_"

"No one's being judged..." said Vincent calmly, before he was interrupted.

"Shut the fuck up!" Vincent's finger pressed the lock down and he shut the door after her, and then Bella couldn't hear very much.

The strange man looked even more frightening from inside the car, where she was brave enough to stare at him. He had dark, shaggy hair, and he was very skinny, but Bella saw that his arms were muscly and tattooed. The way he was swinging his beer made her nervous that he would spill it all over Vincent, though Vincent was now staving him off with an outstretched hand. Bella saw the stranger growing angrier and angrier before he threw the beer at the side of the house, making the glass smash on contact. Vincent, it appeared, had had enough, and when the man stepped back to make an angry kick at a glass shard, Vincent snuck back into the car and pulled away.

"Where's Louisa?" she asked, confused. "Who's that man?"

"Your auntie's moved houses, it would appear," said Vincent angrily, ignoring the muffled shouts of the strange man behind them. When they turned the corner, he could no longer be heard.

"Where's her new house?" asked Bella nervously.

"I don't know," said Vincent, "and neither does Mr. Palmer."

"Who's Mr. Palmer?"

"That man we just met," said Vincent. "He was your auntie's boyfriend."

"Does that mean he's my uncle?" she asked quickly.

"No," said Vincent. "Your auntie's not his girlfriend any more."

"How will we find Aunt Louisa then, if no one knows where her new house is?"

"We aren't going to," said Vincent heavily. "We'll just have to make alternate arrangements for you."

"But I'm supposed to go to Louisa's house," said Bella, confused. "Liza said."

"I know what Liza said," said Vincent quickly. "Your auntie must have changed her mind."

"Can I go home then?" she asked eagerly. "I want to go home and see mom."

"Sweetheart, I've told you," said Vincent, disparaging. "Your mom's gone."

"But…" said Bella, frowning as tears threatened again. "Mom always comes back."

"I know." That was all he said.

When they reached the road again, Bella felt the butterflies in her tummy acting up again. She wished with all her might that Aunt Louisa would call, or that Liza would call from Seattle and tell her that she could go home after all.

She wanted to go back to Mrs. Finchley's house.

"Where will I go, then?" asked Bella meekly, as Vincent parked in the lot of a department store. He didn't answer her, but shot her a quick smile, stepping out of the car.

He left the air conditioning on for her when he stepped out, and Bella watched through the window as he pulled out a little flip phone, extending the antenna before he dialed his number.

Bella sat back in her seat, and thought some more about the strange man Mr. Palmer on Auntie Louisa's old porch._ Maybe she would have to live with him._ To avoid that unpleasant possibility, Bella began to count the spots on the back of the seat in front of her, reaching the number 46 before Vincent stepped back inside.

"We've got another place," said Vincent jovially, beaming back at her. "You'll go and stay with Mrs. Alderman until we can figure out what to do with you."

"Who's Mrs. Alderman?" Bella asked.

"She runs a group home," said Vincent easily. "There are lots of kids there, and she says she'd be happy to have you."

"Oh."

Bella felt as if she would be sick, but said nothing to Vincent as he started to drive. It was a long drive again, and they had to go all the way across town to a new street with new houses and new barking dogs and strange neighbours. By the time they reached it, Bella was exhausted.

"Here," said Vincent, turning the car off. "Hop out, and we'll go knock."

Bella was surprised when Mrs. Alderman opened her door. Most of the "_missuses_" Bella had met, such as Mrs. Finchley, had been older women. Mrs. Alderman was a young, blonde woman wearing not an apron or dress, but very short shorts and a dirty tank top.

"Vincent," she said, nodding at the social worker, rather impolitely, Bella thought. When the woman's eyes raked over her, she shied away.

"Come inside and I'll show you where to put your stuff," she said gruffly.

Everything about this woman made Bella want to turn and run away, but Vincent's hand on her back ushered her into the dark house, where she saw more faces and eyes than she cared to count.

They were all big kids.

"I want to go home," said Bella again, her voice meek and quavering in front of the amassed crowd. She saw, behind the kids, a very large man standing over a sink, washing his hands.

"Yeah, well, you can't, so get inside," said Mrs. Alderman, rolling her eyes. "I don't have time for whiners."

Bella saw her pointed finger, and felt it would be best to obey.

"Vincent…" she began, glancing pleadingly at the man she'd only met hours before. "I don't want to."

"I know, sweetheart, but it's temporary," he said gently. "We'll find a permanent place for you before long. It just might take a little while."

"I don't want to," she repeated, shaking her head. Her hair tumbled out of its elastic and flew about her face, obscuring her vision.

She clutched her backpack closer to her chest.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few days," he said gently. "Mrs. Alderman's had plenty of children here, and hasn't lost one of them yet."

That didn't make her feel better, and she wondered if she would just throw up right there on the kitchen floor.

"Be a good girl, and call if you need anything," said Vincent, handing her a business card. She tried to read the words, but couldn't make them out in her nervousness.

"But…"

"Be good," he said again, handing Mrs. Alderman her suitcase. "Call me immediately if there are any problems."

"Will do," said Mrs. Alderman, following Vincent to the door. "She's potty trained, at least?"

"I'm six," protested Bella crossly, forgetting her anxiety for a moment. Mrs. Alderman's face didn't looked relieved or sorry, but rather annoyed instead.

"She's fine, Heidi," said Vincent, sighing. "She'll just be here for a few weeks until we can find her a more permanent place. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"What's one more?" she asked snidely, and without further ado, she closed the door on him.

No one spoke for a long moment.

"Samantha, take her upstairs and put her shit away," Mrs. Alderman said, eying a tall, red-headed girl on the staircase. Samantha said nothing but turned her gaze to Bella, raising a brow.

Bella didn't move.

"Oh for Christ's sake," snapped Mrs. Alderman. "Go!" Her finger pressed hard into Bella's back, and she fought back tears as she scrambled to the steps, past chuckling big boys towards Samantha, who still said nothing.

It was a quiet trip up the stairs, since Bella was too frightened and Samantha seemed to inept to make conversation. When they reached the top, Bella was directed into a messy room full of clothes, with two sets of bunk beds.

"This is mine," said Samantha, speaking for the first time. "Tiff sleeps under me. You'll have to share Carrie's bunk. She's a bitch."

Bella glanced at the bed that was to be hers, finding it covered in clothes and makeup and magazines.

"Don't touch her shit," warned Samantha. "She'll freak."

And then, Bella was left alone.

With no one to see or hear her, she felt her eyes burning, and even the greatest self control wouldn't let her hold her tears back.

She did _not _like Arizona.

**A/N: So there we have it. Someone has finally actually said the word "dead" to Bella. A lot of people were curious as to how a six year old knew so little about death, but if you'll recall, no one had actually said the words to her. A child so young can not be expected to understand such a complex and life-altering concept if no one really explains to her what's happened. I know it's difficult to grasp, as my readers and myself are all old enough to understand what's happening, but try to remember what you knew of death at six. Probably not very much.**

**On a different note, we've reached 100+ reviews, and I'm very pleased. I'd like to say thank you to each and every one of you who've left one! I hope you keep it up!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: An extra-long chapter (nearly 23 typed pages, 12-pt font)! I hope it was worth the wait!**

Chapter 7- _July 8, 2000_

Bella stood against the wall of the kitchen as the yelling grew louder.

"Fuck you, Heidi, you're not my mother!" spat Carrie, the oldest of the girls who lived in Mrs. Alderman's house. "I don't have to do shit!"

"Wash the fucking dishes, Carrie, and stop being such a brat," said Mrs. Alderman again, pointing her cigarette towards the sink full of dishes.

"I'm going out," said Carrie again, using the same excuse she'd used last night when Mrs. Alderman had asked her to do her chores.

"You're not going anywhere until you clean that mess."

Bella flinched and tried to duck away as Carrie launched herself at Mrs. Alderman. She gasped as Carrie's hand reached out and struck the older woman, earning her a sharp slap in return.

"Fucking hit me again, you little bitch, and I swear to god, you won't sit right for a week," growled Mrs. Alderman, holding Carrie by her ponytail. A tear ran down Bella's cheek as Mrs. Alderman shoved Carrie at the sink, causing her to stumble and catch herself on the edge of the counter. Bella slinked out of the room just quick enough to avoid seeing the dish fly at Mrs. Alderman, bringing about a brand new round of shouting and swearing.

Bella wanted to go home.

"What a bitch," remarked one of the big boys in the living room. "Honestly, how do you stand sleeping in the same room as her?"

Bella didn't like these boys, and she never answered them when they spoke to her. This one was called Cory, and he made rude jokes that Bella didn't understand.

"Oh, that's _right,"_ said Cory, drawing himself up. "The shrimp doesn't talk. I forgot."

Bella wanted to protest that she was _not_ a shrimp, that she was six years old and a big girl, but she couldn't make herself say the words. The boy watched her expectantly, waiting for some kind of retort, but when none came, he just laughed.

"Get lost," he barked, waving his hand dismissively. "Go and find a dolly or something."

Bella scampered away.

"Come here," said the girl called Tiffany, poking her head inside the room. She was older than Bella by a lot, but she was always kind. Bella didn't hesitate to go to her, taking the proffered hand and holding it tight.

She wanted to go home.

"Don't mind Cory," she said kindly, leading Bella away from both the screaming Mrs. Alderman and the raucous teenagers in the living room. They moved towards the staircase that lead to the basement, where Bella knew Tiffany liked to sit and enjoy the quiet.

"Come on," she said. "I don't think anyone's down here except Felix."

Felix, Bella had come to learn, was the name of Mrs. Alderman's big brother. He had been introduced to Bella as Mr. Franconelli, though the smiling man had been quick to correct that to just Felix.

_Mr. Franconelli is my dad, _he had said. _You just call me Felix._

And so she did.

She wasn't surprised, then, when they reached the basement and saw Felix and Mrs. Alderman's husband on the sofa together, drinking beers and watching a rerun of last year's baseball game. Both sets of eyes snapped to the girls as they descended, neither looking shocked.

"What did she do now?" asked Mr. Alderman idly, glancing back to the TV.

"She won't do the dishes," said Tiffany, looking shyly at the men. "Heidi got mad."

"Heidi's always mad," snorted Felix derisively, smirking. "She always has been."

"Carrie will be out of here by the end of the month," said Mr. Alderman soothingly. "As soon as she's eighteen."

"Where will she go then?" asked Bella softly, her voice catching from lack of use.

"No idea," said Mr. Alderman. "Probably get herself a job and find a place. Or maybe a halfway house. Or maybe she'll find herself a John and stay with him, the little slut."

"Who's John?"

Mr. Alderman and Felix both laughed, but didn't answer her. Bella stared up at Tiffany, who looked mildly embarrassed.

"Do you guys mind if we sit?" she asked. "Cory's being an asshole again."

"Fuck Cory," dismissed Felix, waving his beer. "Go ahead. Just keep it down, alright?"

"Sure," said Tiffany. She took Bella's hand in hers and led her towards a smaller sofa that she knew was called a _loveseat._ She wondered if that's where people fell in love…

"I'll go handle her," sighed Mr. Alderman suddenly, as the voice and banging from upstairs grew louder. Bella cringed at the string of unhappy, crass words that streamed down through the basement door, not liking when people were so angry.

She'd never heard anyone use that many swear words before, and it bothered her. The most her mommy and daddy had ever said didn't even begin to compare to this…

And Bella got a quarter every time her parents said a naughty word. And Emmett got grounded when he'd said one to mom.

"Goddamn animals," Felix grunted, displeased as his friend left to defuse the fight upstairs. "I swear to god, I don't know what the fuck's the matter with her."

"Who?" asked Tiffany.

"Both of them," said Felix, grumbling. "My sister and that self-entitled brat."

Tiffany just gave a quick, nervous giggle and began to fidget with the ring on her finger.

Bella watched the interaction between Tiffany and Felix with a small frown on her brow. She was not the least bit interested in baseball, so she devoted herself to learning how she should behave in this strange house. Three days had taught her much—she knew better than to shout, she knew not to badger Mrs. Alderman, and now, she knew not to say no when someone asked her to wash the dishes.

Felix was very different from his sister, though. Where she was mean, abrupt and changeful, he was kinder, quieter and steadier. Felix hadn't shouted at anyone since she'd been around, while his sister had unleashed her temper on every single person in the house.

Even the other adults.

Bella decided that Felix was her favourite in this house, except for maybe Tiffany.

Felix didn't mind it when the children sat with him in the rec room. He didn't mind if they watched the shows he had on, so long as they didn't make too much noise and they didn't try to change the channel. He didn't care if the boys drank his beer (her daddy would've been _mightily_ upset if Emmett or Alice or Bella had asked for _his_ beer) and he didn't seem to mind when Bella stared at him. He often caught her at it, and he'd even offered her a gentle smile once in a while.

"Come here, Tiffy," said Felix suddenly, pulling a sandwich bag from his pocket. Tiffany blushed and glanced over at Bella, hesitating.

"She's too small," said Tiffany gently.

"It's not for her," laughed Felix. "But if _you_ want some…"

"Seriously?" she asked, excited. "No joke?"

"Not if you get here before I smoke it all," Felix said. Bella leaned in closer, but didn't move from the loveseat, as Tiffany stood and sat herself very close to Felix. He took some of the baggie's contents and began rolling it up into what looked very suspiciously like a cigarette.

Mrs. Alderman bought her cigarettes from the store, Bella knew, and she wondered if she knew her brother could make them for free in the basement. Her suspicion that this new creation was a cigarette was confirmed when he placed one end of the white roll between his lips and procured a lighter, igniting the end.

The smoke rose instantly, and he took a deep breath.

"Here," he choked, coughing lightly as he handed it to Tiffany.

_Smoking is bad,_ Bella thought. _Daddy says so._

The two passed the smoke between them for a while before it was burned right out, and the whole basement stunk. It didn't smell like Mrs. Alderman's cigarettes, and in that moment, Bella wished that they did. She pressed herself into the loveseat, lying down across it and pressing her face into the cushion, her nose crinkled. Tiffany caught sight of her and laughed, rising up.

"You'll get used to it," she said in a slightly slurred voice. "I mean, we have a _huge_ supply of it…"

"What's this 'we'?" asked Felix, laughing as he lounged back. "You've got shit."

Tiffany just laughed, and Bella wondered whether she should go.

She _wanted _to go.

"Here," said Felix suddenly, tossing the remote control towards Bella. Shocked, she fumbled to catch it, grabbing it quickly from the carpet at her feet, staring at Felix.

"Watch whatever," he said jovially. "Before one of those animals comes down and takes it from you."

Bella, not believing her luck, switched the channel to cartoons, watching raptly as SpongeBob SquarePants took over the screen. She hadn't seen SpongeBob in _days._ The show grabbed her interest from the very first minute, and before long, she was entranced.

Bikini Bottom had never seemed so welcoming to her as it was in that moment. With her eyes glued to the screen, she was almost able to forget that she wasn't in her house with her mom and dad, and she could almost pretend that Emmett was sitting next to her, laughing at the same jokes.

The one permeating reminder was the smell of that strange cigarette smoke.

SpongeBob went on and on for a whole twenty minutes before it ended, and Bella turned around to glance at the sofa once more.

She stared in mild shock.

"Tiffy…" said Felix in a deep, throaty voice, glancing towards Bella. "Not here."

"Why not?" said Tiffany, breathless on top of Felix, her hands reaching down inside his pants.

Bella did not understand.

"The kid's watching," he said again, taking her hands gently in his. "And my sister's upstairs. She'll freak out and call that fucking social worker."

"She won't ever know," said Tiffany, kissing his neck. "Isabella, find another cartoon."

Bella did as she was bid, trying very hard not to turn and look at the goings-on on the sofa. She heard Felix's soft grunt and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tiffany's hands return to the inside of his pants.

"Stop it, Tiff," said Felix, a little more firmly.

"Don't you want to?"

"Fuck, yes I do, but come on… not with the kid watching."

Bella turned fully away, not wanting to see anymore.

"Please?"

"No."

"Felix…" she drawled, and Bella couldn't help but see her hands rake down his chest as she pressed her lips to his.

"Fucking hell, Tiffany," barked Felix, sudden and loud. "No!"

Bella watched as he shoved her off of him, making her land on the hard floor. Bella stared as the breath left her in a rush and she stood up straight, tears swimming in her eyes.

"Why not?" she demanded. "Am I not good enough for you?"

"We have an audience, Tiff," Felix ground out, glancing at Bella. "She'll run straight to Heidi if she knows what's up."

"Isabella, go upstairs," said Tiffany curtly, pointing the girl away. "Go see if Heidi needs any help."

"But cartoons are on," Bella protested, very reluctant to leave the basement.

"Go," said Tiffany firmly, leaving no room for argument. Bella hoped that Felix would intervene, but he said nothing as his eyes ran hungrily over Tiffany.

Bella stood slowly and stared at the pair of them, not sure what to make of what she was seeing. As she moved closer to the stairs, Tiffany moved closer to Felix. As she mounted the stairs, she saw Felix reaching up under Tiffany's shirt. Soon that shirt was off.

On the last step, Bella could've sworn she saw Felix's pants come off, but she didn't look long enough to be sure.

ooOoo

Heidi, as it turned out, did _not _need help. Doing as she was bid, she snuck up into the kitchen to ask if she was needed, but when she saw what was going on, she wanted very much to slink away. Mr. Alderman had his arms around his wife's chest, pinning her hands to her side as she screamed at Carrie, who was nursing a busted lip. Mr. Alderman seemed like the only one who wasn't ready to attack, and Bella was reluctant to use her voice.

"Do you need any help?" she asked, her quiet voice trembling.

_Please say no. Please say no…_

"I want her out of my _fucking_ house, Demetri!" she shouted. "Out! I can't stand her fucking face for one more goddamn minute!"

"One more month," soothed Mr. Alderman, keeping a tight hold on her. "Just let her go out, and you won't have to deal with her—"

"Ungrateful bitch!" spat Heidi, jerking against her husband's hold once more. No one in the kitchen noticed Bella up against the wall, trembling.

"Do you need any help?"

"Get the fuck out of here," snapped Heidi, turning her head in Bella's direction. "Get!"

And so she did.

In the living room, she found Cory and the other boys enraptured by the music channel. Having no desire to sit with them, she went to the stairs, where her bedroom was. She found Samantha on her bunk, sound asleep, and she knew she'd be in more trouble than ever if she woke her.

The boy's bedroom was closed, and so was Mr. and Mrs. Alderman's, and Bella didn't know where to go.

Sitting down on the top of the steps, she put her chin in her hands and made a game of tossing socks down the steps from the boys' dirty laundry basket. She was careful to travel down the steps to retrieve them periodically, lest Mrs. Alderman find her tossing laundry about.

_Airplane sock,_ she thought quickly, watching as the sock sailed down the steps and landed with a soft _thump _at the bottom. Just like the airplane she had been on with Liza. She imagined herself riding on the airplane again, and she wished to herself that she could have a _real_ airplane to fly…

"Be careful on the stairs. You don't want to fall down."

Bella jumped in mild surprise as Felix appeared at the foot of the steps, grinning lazily.

"Okay."

"Sorry to kick you out," he said, tossing the sock back up for her to catch. "Just didn't want an audience, you know?"

Bella didn't know, but she nodded anyways.

"How old are you, anyways?"

"Six," Bella chirped, sitting up straighter so he could see how tall she was. He grinned and caught the sock as she tossed it back.

She wished they had a ball.

"You're getting big," he praised. "How did you get to this place? Where are you from?"

"Car crash," said Bella sadly, looking down. Felix tossed the sock back to her, but it fell short of her hands, landing two steps below. She composed herself as she reached down for it, hiding her face from him.

_Not a baby._

Felix just watched her, and to her surprise, he looked sort of sad.

"Did you live in Tucson before?" he asked. "Phoenix, maybe?"

"No," said Bella shortly. "I took an airplane with Liza."

"Did you live very far away?"

"I lived at Seattle," said Bella reluctantly. Daddy didn't want her to tell strangers where she lived, though she supposed that Felix, as Mrs. Alderman's brother, wasn't really a _stranger…_

"Wow," said Felix, sitting back against the wall at the bottom of the steps. "That far, huh? Why'd they ship you all the way out here?"

"Auntie Louisa was supposed to want me," she said, feeling the tears prick again. "Liza said."

"Louisa who?"

"I don't know," said Bella, irked. "Auntie Louisa. Mommy's auntie. But Mrs. Finchley was nicer. Her old boyfriend was sort of mean."

"Oh." Felix just nodded at her, and she wondered if he _really_ understood. Sometimes Bella said "oh" when she didn't know the answer.

"How are you liking Arizona?" he asked idly, balling up two socks to make it more ball-like.

"Dunno," said Bella, shrugging. "I guess it's okay."

_Liar, liar, liar._

Felix snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure my dear sister's been making your life so much easier."

Bella just caught the sock ball and kept quiet.

"Do you want to stay here?" he asked suddenly, his eyes sharp and his voice serious. Bella was used to Felix being silly and rather relaxed, and this sudden shift alarmed her.

"I've got to stay here," she said. "Vincent says so. And if I go, Emmett and Alice won't know where to find me."

The mention of her brother and sister made her tears overflow, and she fought hard to staunch them.

_Not a baby._

"Vincent's not the boss here," said Felix softly, grinning. "I know a place you could go."

"Is there kids?" she asked, eager. "To play with?"

"Well, no," said Felix, his grin falling. "But there are toys. I know he has a dolly and some marbles…"

"There's dollies and marbles here," muttered Bella sadly.

"Yeah, but there's no other brats there to bug you," he said, leaning forward. "My friend's the boss there."

"Which friend?"

Felix grinned at her, tossing the sock ball back. He tossed it with more force this time, and Bella smiled as she caught it, reminiscing about the way her brother would've thrown it.

_Something like that._

"James."

ooOoo

_July 29, 2000_

After their encounter on the stairs, Bella didn't see much more of Felix. She tried to count the sleeps since he'd left the house, but after the number 11, she'd lost count.

The idea of going away from Mrs. Alderman's terrible house and being with Felix—the one person in the house who was truly kind to her—made her want to dance. She imagined Felix's friend, James, and how he might look- maybe like her daddy, or maybe like Felix himself. Any man who was friends with Felix must have been kind, since she didn't think Felix would have meanie friends like his sister Heidi, or that terrible boy, Cory.

But Felix had gone away, and Bella didn't know where he'd gone.

Hiding in the basement wasn't even fun anymore without Felix there, since when he wasn't there, that meant the nasty boys could go and use the room without fear of being yelled at. Much to her dismay, they often monopolized the remote control, and not even Tiffany could get it back from them. Bella had once begged Tiffany to get it for her, because she _knew_ her shows were on, and when Tiffany had gone down to try, one of the boys had been angry enough to hit her.

The bruise on her face had lasted for a whole week, and Tiffany hadn't been allowed to see Vincent when he'd come to visit. Mrs. Alderman had hidden her up in the bedroom and one warning glance had shut Bella up when she tried to protest that Tiffany was not _out with friends._

She wished Felix would come back.

"Get going," said Mrs. Alderman sharply, nudging Bella in the direction of the living room. "You've got chores just like everyone else around here."

The living room was very dusty and dirty, and Bella knew the big kids didn't like to do their chores. Mrs. Alderman had screamed, shouted and threatened Cory all through breakfast, but even that hadn't stopped him from marching right out the door when he was done, leaving his mess behind.

Bella thought it best not to fuss over the request, lest she be on the receiving end of such wrath.

Heidi Alderman frightened Bella. No one in the house, not even Mr. Demetri, knew what her mood would be like on any particular day, and it put Bella on edge every morning. Sometimes, she would be kind and fetch Bella her breakfast without much ado, and other days, she would already be so angry upon waking, that Bella's very _presence_ was enough to earn her some sharp words. On angry days, Bella's care was left in the hands of Mr. Alderman and some of the older kids, who, most of the time, weren't too cranky about helping. One of the boys, Kyle, had even made her eggs one morning when Mrs. Alderman had banished her from the kitchen.

As she swept, Bella mulled over her thoughts. She thought about Mrs. Alderman and all the kids in the house. She thought about Mr. Alderman and his quietness, and her only friend, Felix. When she thought too hard, though, her mind went to the family she'd lost—her mom and dad, and her brother and sister. She wondered where mom and dad were, and if Alice and Emmett had been brought back to them yet.

Was daddy looking for her? Was mom worried? Was Alice going to read _Where the Wild Things Are _without her?

She piled her dirt into a neat little pile, glancing around for more to sweep up.

It was when she was finishing up her messy sweeping job that she heard the voices, and she broke from her trance, heart soaring.

It sounded like Felix.

Without pausing to think, Bella tossed her broom aside so that it fell right into her little dirt pile and ran as fast as her little legs would carry her, dashing to the open door. There were two people in the doorway- a fact of which Bella barely took note, because she only had eyes for one.

"Felix!" she cried, shoving past Mrs. Alderman and making her drop her cigarette. She heard her curse and felt a hand swipe out to slap at her as Heidi knelt down to pick it up, but Bella was too quick and the hand just brushed her shoulder.

"Hey!" shouted Felix, indignant, as Bella latched herself to him, grinning widely. "Don't hit her, Heidi."

"Don't run in my house," said Mrs. Alderman, her eyes fairly glowing with rage, ignoring her brother and pointing the red, glowing end of her cigarette at Bella's face.

"Where'd you go?" she demanded of Felix, letting him go to look him in the face. "You were gone a long time."

"Had some business to see to," he said, smiling as he ruffled her hair. "But I came back, didn't I?"

Bella just grinned.

"And I brought a friend," he said, turning to the other person in the doorway. Bella glanced over briefly, seeing nothing noteworthy, and feeling a pungent pang of jealousy at the thought of _other_ friends.

"Oh."

"Don't you want to say hello?" he asked her, laughing. "She's here to see you."

"What?" barked Mrs. Alderman, looking alarmed at the thought. "No fucking way, Felix, not with that social worker all up in our business—"

Felix rolled his eyes at her and ignored her, grinning back down to Bella.

"See, Vicky here is a nurse," he explained.

"Like at the hospital?" asked Bella curiously, taking a closer look at the new woman. "I'm not sick."

"I know," said Felix easily. "But she wants to make _real_ sure."

"Oh."

"Isabella, is it?" asked the woman, speaking for the first time. She had a high, girlish voice like a cartoon might have, and Bella thought it was the _greatest._

"Let's go kick those animals out of the basement," said Felix jovially, taking Bella's hand. "Maybe we can watch some cartoons?"

"Yeah!" Bella said eagerly, latching her hand to his. Mrs. Alderman gave her a warning look, and Bella suddenly remembered her sweeping, but Felix had her hand tight and she had no choice but to follow him.

"Get the fuck out," he barked loudly as they made it to the stairs, catching sight of some of the boys lounging on the sofas. They had their music channel on again, and Bella frowned at the loudness.

She didn't like loud.

"Fuck off, man," said one of the boys, taking a swig of a beer.

Felix let go of Bella's hand, and she watched with mild shock as he reached down and grabbed the boy by his arm, making him slop his drink, and marched him to the stairs.

"Out," he said again, pointing. "I've got company."

"Shrimp's no company," said one of the boys, laughing as he went to the stairs.

"Get," barked Felix again, cursing angrily when the boys slammed the door loudly behind them.

The music was quickly changed to Bella's cartoon station, and she thanked him heartily. Felix watched her for a moment, making sure she was entranced by her cartoons, before he spoke to Vicky.

"Will she do?" he asked lowly, as the SpongeBob theme song started up. "Is she too young?"

"I don't think so," said Vicky in her high voice that made Bella think of Minnie Mouse. "The younger they are, the less they'll fight."

"Yeah," said Felix, his voice low. Bella tried to pay attention to the television, but that adult talk was distracting her.

Because it was _about_ her.

"Don't worry, Felix," laughed Vicky. "He won't hurt her."

"I saw what he's got going there, Vic," he said darkly. "I know what he wants her for."

"She's just a baby," she said reasonably. "He'll start her out slow."

"Will it be settled after this?"

"You'd have to ask him," breezed Vicky. "I don't deal with that side of things."

"Vic…" said Felix in a dark, growly voice. Bella shivered at the sound, wondering if she would be better to go back upstairs.

He sounded mad.

"I imagine it'll be _partially_ settled, if not completely," she admitted slowly, drawing out her words.

"Settled what?" Bella blurted suddenly, turning to face them. Felix just watched her with the same look he'd given Vicky, but the lady smiled kindly.

"Nothing that matters to you," she said, taking a step closer to Bella. "Just adult things."

"Oh."

"Can I take a look at you?" she asked. "You know, to make sure you're feeling well?"

"I _do_ feel well," she said, confused. "I'm not sick."

"I know," smiled Vicky, "but it would be a big help if you'd let me check. Can you be a big helper?"

"Okay," said Bella easily, sitting up straighter on the sofa. Vicky reached into her purse and pulled out what Bella knew was a thermometer.

She opened wide, lifting her tongue.

"An expert, I see," said Vicky, laughing as she put the thermometer in Bella's mouth. "Good girl."

After the thermometer was done, Vicky used her special listening tool—a _stuffoscope—_to hear her heart and lungs, then she tapped her knees with a little hammer to make them kick. She measured Bella's height with a tape measure and got her to stand on the scale in the downstairs bathroom so she knew how heavy she was.

"Did I do good?" asked Bella, once the procedures were done. "Am I not sick?"

"Healthy as a horse," declared Vicky proudly, smiling at Felix. "I think she'll do."

Felix sighed, smiling, and Bella wondered what she'd have to "do".

"I'll bring the report back to James, and let him look it over. You think you'll be able to get her past your cow of a sister?"

"Heidi doesn't care what I do," he said quietly. "And she definitely doesn't care what the kid does."

"Can we go away now?" asked Bella, eager at hearing the name of Felix's friend. "How many more sleeps?"

"A few more," said Felix vaguely. "You've got to keep it a secret until I tell you, understand? You can't let Heidi know that we're going to visit James."

"Why not?" she asked, frowning.

Mrs. Alderman had whacked Samantha right on the face for lying.

"Because she won't let you come," said Vicky, grave. "And that'll be bad, won't it? Don't you _want_ to come and visit us?"

"Yes, I do!" said Bella, nodding vehemently. "I do!"

"So remember the secret, then," she said, smiling again. "Don't tell anybody that you spoke with Felix."

"Everyone knows I speak to Felix," said Bella.

"Keep the going away talk a secret, though, okay?"

"'Kay," said Bella softly, hoping she'd remember.

She _had_ to remember.

ooOoo

_August 13, 2000_

Bella woke in the middle of the night to a loud crashing sound from the floor beneath her. Raised voices and angry words disoriented her and her legs tangled in her blankets as she tried to rise from her bed.

The other girls were asleep, but the noises were frightening Bella.

"Oh fucking _hell,_ Felix!" she heard Mrs. Alderman shout, though this time, her voice was not angry, but rather _fearful._ Bella frowned in confusion, trying not to listen in.

She walked out of the bedroom.

"Shut up!" said Felix, his low, tremulous voice carrying up the steps. "You'll wake the kids."

"Oh, _fuck_ the kids," said Mrs. Alderman, her voice shrill and panicked. "There's a goddamn cruiser making rounds!"

"There's nothing illegal about visitors," said Felix firmly. "Go and sit down before you wake the whole house."

"That asshole is _not_ a visitor," she replied. "You know they've caught him for trafficking!"

"And he was let out," said Felix easily. "No one knows he's at it again!"

"_They _know!" wailed Mrs. Alderman

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Heidi!"

"We're going to be arrested!"

"Oh, fucking hell…"

"You selfish son of a bitch!"

"Heidi."

"Don't _Heidi_ me…"

"_Heidi_."

Felix was looking right at Bella, who was staring back with wide eyes. She did not know how her feet had carried her down the steps, but finding herself at the bottom made her eyes widen.

Now they'd _know_ she was listening.

"What the hell are you doing up?" barked Mrs. Alderman, wheeling around to face Bella. She saw the tears streaming down her caretaker's face, her mascara and eyeliner smudged as she brought a cigarette to her lips and took a long pull.

"I heard yelling," said Bella pitifully, looking at Felix for help.

Felix said nothing.

"Get up to your bed," said Mrs. Alderman sharply, "and don't let me see you out of it until morning, you hear?"

"Yes," said Bella, nodding quickly. Unable to help herself, Bella took quick inventory of the room around her, trying to discover the cause of the loud _crash_ she had heard from upstairs.

She found nothing out of place but a curious package on the table, wrapped in brown paper.

"Go! And don't wake up any of the girls, either."

"Okay."

"Try and get some sleep," said Felix softly, his gentleness not at all on par with his sister's panic. "Don't come back down if you hear anything else."

"Okay."

The look on Mrs. Alderman's face made Bella agree without question, and not waiting for another dismissal, she rushed up the steps, stumbling at the top, and tossed herself back into her bed, wide awake.

"_There's a goddamn cruiser making rounds!"_

Bella knew what a cruiser was. She knew who drove them, and what they were used for—her nervous excitement was almost unbearable. The very thought of a cruiser coming near Mrs. Alderman's house made her want to rush out of the door to flag it down, making it stop. She knew exactly who it was that would get out of the driver's seat, bushy moustache twitching with a grin and shiny badge glittering in the lights from the nearby houses.

Her daddy was coming to get her, just as she knew he would.

Unable to help herself, Bella snuck to the window, slipping her head under the blanket Carrie had tacked up to keep the daytime out while she slept in the mornings. The light from outside would have shocked her if she hadn't already been in the light downstairs.

Having expected to be kept waiting, Bella was gleefully giddy when she saw the familiar white car round the corner, driving slowly past the house.

"_I'm here, daddy!" _she wanted to scream. _"I'm right here!"_

But her words were silent and the car kept on driving past the house, the dark windows of the car reflecting the house back at her. She watched it for as long as she could, losing sight of it as it rounded the corner, never speeding up or slowing down.

She wanted to scream again, but this time, for a whole different reason. Hadn't he seen her in the window, smiling down at him? Hadn't he _cared?_

Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, but she reminded herself that she was a big girl, and thus, held them back.

For a whole four minutes, according to the red numbers on Samantha's alarm clock, the police cruiser was out of sight. Bella was almost ready to give up and go back to bed, but before she could get out of the window without making any noise, she saw it again, turning the corner onto her street once more.

_He knew she was here, and he was coming for her._

"Daddy," she whispered, pressing her forehead against the window with a wide smile. Her tummy roiled with a mixture of fear and excitement as the car neared the house again, and hear heart almost leapt into her throat when she saw it slowing in front of the house.

Heidi shouted something panicked from downstairs again, but Bella couldn't be bothered with her. The driver's side window was nearest her, and she watched, bouncing on the balls of her feet, as the window slowly began to roll down.

_This was it. He would see her now, and he'd come in with his badge and his gun, and tell Mrs. Alderman that she needed to go home to her mom and brother and sister and bedroom and books and stuffies…_

When she saw the face of the man in the car, her heart sank lower than she ever thought it could. Bile rose up and formed a lump in her throat that made her eyes and nose burn, despite her efforts to maintain her "big girl" persona.

That man in the car was not her daddy.

He wore a uniform that was very familiar to her, but she saw that _this_ policeman was light-haired and had no moustache. His mouth did not twitch like her father's did when he smiled, but rather he beamed a wide smile, a _happy_ smile that Bella was not familiar with. He looked right at her as she stared in the window, folding his hands under his face, miming sleep. Bella just stared as he rolled his window up and drove off again, moving a little faster this time.

He didn't come back again.

With bitter disappointment and overwhelming sadness in her heart, Bella obeyed the unspoken command of that strange policeman and crawled into her bed, pulling the blankets up over her head. The noise from downstairs had died down, but the clamour in her heart was more than enough to make up for it. Unable to help herself, she pressed her face into the bed, ignoring all thoughts of _'not a baby'_ and felt the hot, salty tears escape her, soaking into her pillow.

ooOoo

_Day 1_

"Isabella."

Bella kept her eyes shut, frowning when she saw red through her eyelids. She didn't want it to be morning.

"Come on, kiddo…" she heard Felix say. "It's time. Come on."

"Time for what?" she rasped groggily, gasping as she rolled over, almost falling off of the sofa. She'd forgotten she'd been sleeping on it, and it was much smaller than her bed.

Felix caught her and set her right.

"Come on," he said again, smiling when she opened her eyes. "Quiet now."

"Why?" she complained, sitting up. She frowned and shifted when her backside hit the cushion, the sting reminding her of the spanking she'd gotten yesterday from Mrs. Alderman.

"It's _time,"_ said Felix again, drawing out the last word. Bella rubbed her eyes and tried her best to get her sleepy brain to work, wondering what he meant.

"Time for what?" she asked. She glanced to the basement window, and to her confusion, she saw dark.

"It's nighttime."

"It's time to go," he said gently. "I've got your bag packed, right here. We've got to get going before Heidi wakes up."

"To your friend's house?" she blurted loudly, her brain waking up just like that.

Just like he'd promised.

"Shh!" he hissed, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Secret, remember?"

"Oops," she giggled, reaching out to take the hand he offered her. He had placed a pair of dollar store flip-flops on the floor in front of her, and she gratefully slid her feet into them, padding towards the stairs.

"Be quiet, now," he said. "You'll have to lay in the back of the truck until we get out of town."

Bella walked quietly with Felix up the steps, frowning when she caught sight of Mrs. Alderman on the sofa.

"Shit," hissed Felix, and much to Bella's surprise, he shoved her roughly behind him, hiding her from the living room.

"Where the hell are you going this late?" demanded Heidi, her voice hoarse and quiet.

"Out," said Felix. "What's it to you?"

"Going to get more blow?"

"No, I'm going to see Rena," he said easily.

"Nasty slut," spat Heidi, and Bella heard her shift on the sofa. "Whatever. Don't come back bringing crabs into my house."

Felix just laughed.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Be quiet," Heidi reminded him as he reached back and took Bella's hand. "The kids are asleep."

"I know," said Felix, and Bella felt a jolt of fear when she heard Heidi Alderman rise from the sofa.

"Did she cry much?" she heard Heidi's voice, much closer than before. Felix let go of her hand and stepped away.

"A little," said Felix reproachfully. "You shouldn't have hit her."

"Yeah, probably not," said Heidi, and Bella thought she sounded sorry. "She should've known better, though…"

"She's only six," Felix reminded her, "and a cop's daughter. You can't blame her for that."

"Yeah."

"Anything else?" asked Felix. "I've got to get going. Rena's not going to wait forever, you know."

"No, go ahead," said Heidi quietly, and Bella could smell her cigarette smoke from around the corner. She felt her heart beating quickly and loudly in her chest, and she only calmed when she heard the bathroom door open and close, and the fan start up.

"Quick," said Felix softly as his sister disappeared. "Come on."

To her surprise, he scooped her up in one arm and went not to the front door, but the back. He closed and locked it behind him, and Bella's excitement grew.

It was somewhat dampened when he deposited her in the bed of a pickup truck, laying her down on a blanket and ratty pillow. When she looked up to the sky, she was amazed by the great mass of glowing stars in the clear sky, and the bright moon directly above her.

"Just lay there and be quiet," whispered Felix. "I'll drive for a while and I'll let you out when there aren't any people to see us."

"But there's no seatbelts," Bella said, frowning. "What if we crash?"

She had said those same words to her daddy.

"We won't crash," said Felix, grinning. "I promise."

"But…"

"No buts," he said to her, pushing her shoulders down and covering her up. "Quiet and still, okay?"

"Okay."

"No matter what," he said. "Even if we stop, don't say a word."

Bella nodded, torn between wanting her seatbelt and wanting to get out of the house.

"What will Vincent say?" she asked worriedly, thinking of the kind man who had been to visit her.

"I don't know," said Felix gently. "We won't have to know. James will take care of everything once we get there."

"Okay."

When, Felix shut the cover on the truck, the stars disappeared and Bella was left in the blackest dark she'd ever been in. Only a small sliver of light peeked through from the back end of the truck, and even then, she could only see in it because they were under the house's outside light.

When Felix turned on the truck and it rumbled to life, Bella felt the excitement rising in her once more. She would never have to see Mrs. Alderman or Cory or Carrie ever again.

That made her happy.

When they began to move, Bella felt the pillow under her vibrating. She clung tightly to her blanket, using it to block out the small stream of cool air whistling in from the crack between the cover and truck. The blanket was good enough to keep her warm, and before long, the vibrations and thundering engine of the truck were lulling her to sleep.

* * *

She woke when she felt a set of strong, hardened arms scooping her up from the bed of the truck. Blearily, she opened her eyes to find herself wrapped up in the blanket and being carried by Felix. The sun was just beginning to peek over the edge of the world, she saw, but she was still so sleepy that she just rested her head against him and closed her eyes. She expected to be deposited back in the truck, and was surprised when she was placed in the backseat of a little car.

"Just lay back down," Felix said gently, putting the pillow back under her head. "We'll be there soon."

"Where's the truck?" asked Bella quietly, frowning as she tried to look back.

"Shh. Never mind the truck."

"Is this your car?"

"It's James' car," said Felix, grinning when Bella's eyes widened. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when we're close."

Bella closed her eyes in the back of the car, but couldn't even think about falling back asleep. _They were almost there_, she knew. Soon, they'd be at Felix's friend's house, and she could play with the toys and not have any kids to bug her. She would never have to be spanked by Mrs. Alderman again, and maybe her daddy would be able to find her easier at James' house.

Bella hoped so.

She hadn't told Felix about her encounter with the police car those few days prior, for fear that he'd think she didn't want to go with him. She wanted very much for her daddy to come and get her, that was true, but she also wanted to go with Felix.

She didn't want to be left behind.

She wondered then if Mrs. Alderman knew she was gone. Had the woman woken up and gone storming into the girls' room this morning, like she sometimes did when she was cranky? Would she be angry with the others when she tore back the blankets on Bella's bed and realized she wasn't there? Maybe after checking the bed, she would storm down to the basement to demand Bella get off the sofa and sleep in her own bed.

Mrs. Alderman didn't like kids sleeping in places that weren't their beds.

_Maybe she'd worry,_ Bella thought. Maybe she'd wake up and find her missing, and then she'd feel sad that she'd been so mean to Bella. Maybe she _missed_ her, like she knew her parents did. Maybe she would call Vincent and then _he'd_ worry. Then maybe Liza would get a call and then maybe Mrs. Finchley, and then Nancy and Alice and Emmett…

She wondered if they would ever know.

"You still up?" asked Felix suddenly, breaking her from her reverie.

"Mhm," Bella, said, moving to sit up.

"Stay down for a while," said Felix, stopping her. "There are sometimes cops on this road."

"Like daddy?" she asked, eager. "Will he be on this road?"

"No," said Felix quietly, glancing back at her in the mirror. "Your daddy's gone."

"Oh yeah." And then Bella remembered all over again.

_Dead._ _She would _not_ cry._

"I think he misses me," she said quietly, the words escaping without her permission. She frowned at the sound of them and so did Felix, watching her with great trepidation.

"Do you even understand what dead means?" he asked carefully.

"No waking up sleep," Bella recited dutifully. "But mom said one."

"What?"

"Mom said one," Bella repeated again, frowning. "And it's passed one."

"Okay," said Felix turning back to the road. Bella knew he didn't understand.

"And Emmett said fourteen sleeps," she remembered suddenly, and with a rush of burning tears, she felt the stinging betrayal.

_Liar, liar, liar._

"You're just tired," said Felix gently. "Go back to sleep."

And for the second time that day, Bella did as she was told.

* * *

Bella felt Felix's hand shaking her awake once again, only this time, the sun was high and the car wasn't moving.

"Wake up," he said, reaching over to take her blanket. "Come on. We're here."

Bella sat up carefully in the back seat, rubbing her eyes and frowning up at the big building in front of them. As her eyes adjusted and she took in the sheer scale of the place, she felt her eyes widen.

Felix had brought her to a massive stone building that looked like it was very old. Some of the bricks on one side had fallen out, and Bella saw that there were no other buildings around it. There were no cars parked outside but theirs, which Bella thought was unusual for a building of such size and grandeur. She expected there to be many visitors. If she had such a big house as this one, she knew for sure that she'd _always_ have visitors over.

"Come inside," coaxed Felix gently. "My friends are waiting to meet you."

"Friends?" asked Bella, frowning. "I thought there was one friend."

"No," said Felix. "We've gained a few more since I first told you about this place."

"Oh."

"Come on." He took her hand in his own, leading her carefully to a set of metal doors that creaked when he opened them. He quickly ushered her inside the hot building, letting the door close with a resonating _boom_ behind them.

The inside was very frightening, and Bella gripped Felix's hand a little tighter.

"We're going up to level 3," he said jovially. "Up these steps and just around the corner."

Bella followed Felix up a set of old, metal stairs, finding herself rather disoriented on them. They leaned slightly to the right, making her feel as though she would fall over with every step she took. By the time they made it to level three, Bella had stumbled and nearly fallen down more times than she cared to count.

"And here we are," said Felix, coming to another set of doors. Bella glanced up at the words above the door, wishing she could make them out. If she'd been given more time, she might have been able to sound it out, but the brief glance she'd been awarded before she was ushered through the new doors wasn't long enough for a girl who couldn't read.

_Women's Ward_

"James!" called Felix, as soon as the door closed. "We're here!"

Bella's eyes took a moment to adjust to the light in this section, and her ears pricked curiously as she heard the sounds of voices.

She wondered where the others were.

"Ah, Felix! What have you brought me?"

The source of _this_ particular voice was much closer than any of the others. Bella wheeled around to face the man to whom the sound belonged, and found herself looking up into the face of a handsome man with light blonde hair. His blue gaze twinkled as he looked down at her, a brilliant smile on his face.

Bella stared.

"This is Isabella," said Felix, nudging her forth. "Isabella, this is—"

"Doctor Dupont," said the man, kneeling down to take Bella's chin in his warm hand. He watched her for a long moment before his face broke into another dazzling smile.

"You and I," he said, tapping the end of her nose on the word 'you', "shall be very good friends, I think. Very good friends indeed." His finger stroked down her cheek.

Bella smiled.

**A/N: A lot of content in this chapter, I hope it all makes sense. What do you think of Felix? And James? Now we're getting into the brunt of the story, with most of the background covered. I hope you'll all stick with me.**


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